Fighting For Our Loved Ones
by RedStaining
Summary: When Bubbles gets fired from her work, she has to move in with Buttercup. Brick goes out of his way to drag Blossom back to Townsville. A darkness lies over their lives, and the girls must struggle with new employment, their unstable powers, and those lovely Ruff boys. Slow-burn. Reds, greens and blues. This is rated M. Dark character development and content.
1. Chapter 1

**Part 1. Art of Pleasing the Boss**

 _Intro: Something dark has happened to the girls, that made them abandon their powers. The Jojo's own the town, and are trying to ruin the lives of the puffs even more. When danger threatens their loved ones, will they be able to endure and take back their powers again? And exactly what is Him up to?_

Chapter 1. In a pinch

«Yes, yes,» the blond muttered, balancing a slice of bread in her mouth, head on shoulder to keep the phone in place and three boxes on top of each other in her arms. It looked rather silly, like a young mule trying to balance for the first time. She wiggled her stuff up the stairs to the building – thank god the door was open - and managed to press the elevator button while the man at the end kept ranting at her.

«I under-» she placed the food at the top of the box to continue in a clearer manner. «I understand very well, but isn't there a slight possibility that-» the man interrupted her like clockwise, and she grabbed the phone with her right hand, cocking her head back in place. As if it would give her better authority, or courage to go on, with a slightly annoyed look on her face, eyebrows wrinkled. She held the boxes up with one hand and tried to come to the word in between the voices statements.«I- yes, but- yes- please listen, Mr. Brokmore. I know it's not the best, yes, but please. I just need one more try and I'm sure it'll work. I- yes.»

 _«Enough, Ms. Utonium. Not one of your paintings have been sold, and we can't keep paying without earning anything in return. I'm really sorry, but that's the reality behind it. You used to be a good artist, and I personally still find your paintings good, but they are not pleasing to the buyers anymore. We simply cannot keep supporting your work. Have a good day,»_ the voice finished and was followed with a beeping sound. He had not given her any time to answer him.

«Please,» the blond whispered into the dead line. The elevator dinged as the doors came apart, revealing a woman eying her phone, holding the hand of her little boy. His hair was brown, just as the woman's. She scowled and those chocolate eyes met her sky blue ones. His orbs slightly widened as he stared at her inhuman strength. The gears inside her head put the peaces together before he could turn to his mother.

«Mom, look. She's super strong,» the boy said, tugging at his mother. The woman, now unemployed, quickly grabbed the boxed with both her hands and flashed the woman an uncertain smile. She had barely made it, and the adult exiting the elevator nodded her eyes, dragged her kid along. She hadn't witnessed it. Letting out a breath she didn't know she had held, she glanced after them.

«That's fantastic, sweetheart. Come along, grandma is waiting.» The boy turned around and looked straight at her. Those eyes broke her heart, and the blond moved a finger to her lips and winked at him. The child lightened up at once and bounced after her mother, chirping away at the new found superhero. She wished. Her sister was going to be furious if she knew what the blonde had done. They were suppose to lay low, just as they had promised each other.

Sighing, she entered the elevator and pressed a round button with an eight on it. She still needed to go a couple more rounds to get everything with her. Quickly remembering her breakfast, she grabbed the slice of bread and stuffed it back into her mouth, nibbling on it. The fine taste of cheese suddenly didn't feel so fine any more, and quickly turned to the bitter taste of ashes. It was hard to swallow, and she felt tears at the corner of her eyes.

At the age of twenty-two, Bubbles Utonium was unemployed and currently in the progress of moving in with her sister. She didn't know how much longer she would be able to keep the car, or how long her money went for supplies, or even food. Her self loathing didn't get further as she reached the floor of destination, and exited. It wasn't like things could get worse, right?

She scanned the doors to find the right one, turning to the side to follow the rising number. 819 was the lucky digit, and she glanced around, making sure nobody were close enough to see her. Bubbles proceeded to knock on the door, quickly grabbing the boxes again. She had been careless and would probably give her sister a heart attack if she had seen it. Their powers could never be found out, no matter what, and her redheaded sister had made that painfully clear. The child had called her a superhero to his mother. She really wished that was the case. Her powers could be used for good, but Bubbles could not do that alone. Besides, she had already promised not to.

«What the hell do you want?» a voice called grumpily from the other side of the door, and the blond cleared her throat. It sure sounded like her sister, but the invasion didn't feel any easier.

«Could you maybe let me inside, Buttercup?» She heard clicking sounds before the door opened and green eyes stared at her. Bubbles barely finished the sentence as the door swung open.

«Oh, shit. Was that today?» Her tan sister scratched her black hair and bit her lip. She looked like she had just woke up, t-shirt and loose pants dangling around her body. The blond nodded her head as she entered the room as she was waved inside. The door smacked shut behind her, startling the blonde. The boxes almost tumbled out of her grip, but she was too fast and strong for them.

«Sorry, I totally forgot. My boss has been working my ass the clock around, and this was my first hours off for three days.» Bubbles sat the boxes down and stared horrid at her older sister.

«You've been working for three days, none stop?» She waved a hand at her and made a groaning sound.

«We get half an hour off here and there, but that's about it.» The blonde grabbed her sister in a tight hug, now taking notice of the dark bags under her eyes. Gosh, she didn't think she had ever seen Buttercup this tired before.

«You can't do that, superhuman or not. It isn't good for you, Butters.» the green eyed girl sighed, before releasing herself from the strong hug. She went for the kitchen and turned her coffee maker on. It started up as she filled the coffee in and water on top.

«It can't really be helped. That son ova bitch knows I can't say no, or he'll fire my ass.» The blond swallowed, narrowing her eyes. «Besides, the tips are good and so is the payment. At least I don't have to sell my back on the streets, and I've got a home.» It stung in the blonds heart, and she glanced down. «Ah, Shit. Man, Bubs, I didn't mean it like that. You know what I meant.»

«Yeah, I know, I know. No worries. I'm just happy one of us has a job and you're willing to let me crash over until I get back on my feet again.» She flashed her a bright smile only Bubbles were capable of, and her sister tugged the corner of her lip. The green girl had a strong need to appear indifferent when it came to sensitive topics and be the rock of the whole world. She placed a coffee cup under and waited for her savior, the mighty power of caffeine.

«What's the time, anyway?» Buttercup said, staring hungrily at the flowing coffee. It had become her new craving, and the only thing that kept her going. At times, she'd even munch on black coffee beans.

«Ehm,» the blond fished her phone out of her pants and stared at them. «It's quarter to five.» Buttercups eyes widened and she pulled the half filled cup out and chugged it down, letting the rest flow over the kitchen table. It burned in her throat but she didn't care as she ran for her bedroom, quickly stripping out of her cloths.

«Fuck, I'm going to be late for work!» She shouted, changing into a set of fresh working cloths. Gaping at the fast reaction, and the fact that she had just drank down boiling water, Bubbles turned to look at her sister run, back and forth to fetch everything she needed. She grabbed a set of keys and threw them to her blond sister.

«I thought you had a day off.»

«I did,» Buttercup answered as she was bouncing about on one leg while putting socks on. «I've slept for almost twelve hours.»

«Do as you wish. There's food in the refrigerator. Always lock the door, even when you are home. When you go out, even if it's just down the hallway. Always, Bubbles. People here are crazy,» she said as she stuffed some coffee from the pack into her mouth and ran out the door, locking it behind her with crunching sounds.

«Have a nice day,» Bubbles mumbled and found herself waving to nobody in particular. Drawing a breath, she glanced around the apartment. Cloths everywhere. Old plates of food and dirt. With so much work, her sister didn't have any time to clean up after herself. When was the last time she had been home, Bubbles wondered as she stared at a green, fluffy something. It might have been a slice of pizza in its prime, but now Bubbles would make short process of it by throwing it in to the thrash. Suddenly feeling a lot better, she knew what she was going to do. Fetch her stuff and clean up Buttercups apartment they now shared. This was the best she could do until she managed to pay her for the stay, then move out as soon as possible. Not need to stay longer than she needed to. Giggling to herself, she quickly left for the elevator. How many boxes did she have left? A couple more. Her whole trunk had been full of stuff from her last place, and she couldn't afford to throw away any of her working tools. Nor clothes.

She jogged to her car, waving at a halting Mercedes stopping for her like a gentleman, and opened it with her keys. Horror hit her as she stared down at the set of metal in her hands. Had she remembered to lock the apartment door? She didn't think so. Buttercup was going to be so furious if she found out. In a haste, she grabbed three new boxes and ran back, barely remembering to locking her own car. Both elevators were moving, and she swallowed hard. They were going upwards. Not knowing what to do, she half way panicked and went for the stairs. It wasn't like the boxes were heavy to her, but they would be for a normal human her size. Climbing the first stairs, she noticed the emptiness of it. Nobody was watching. Her sister weren't there to judge her either. Making up her mind right there and then, she flew in a zip to the eight floor, faster than the elevator could have moved her. Landing in front of the door, she opened it and pushed through, looking to her right.

Her heart fell to her stomach as she saw the door to Buttercups apartment open. This couldn't be good. The blond hadn't been her for more than half an hour and had already messed things up. Walking toward the door with the worst possible scenarios in her mind, she went inside and straight for the living room. Clenching her teeth and swallowing, she got the attention of the unwanted guest. He turned on his heel as her footsteps approached and bent his head forward, staring at her over his sunglasses. His hair was black, and his skin was really pale. He had long nails on his fingers.

«Hello, pretty one,» he said, flashing her a crooked grin. It sent warning signs into her head and chills down her spine.

«Who are you?» Bubbles asked, setting her boxes down beside the rest. The man rose an eyebrow, dismissing her question.

«Is BC moving out?» The blond bit her lip. She didn't like it when people avoided the topic and tried to sweet talk about other things.

«No, I'm moving in with her.» The man nodded his head.

«Wasn't sure, but I always took her as the dyke type. Understandable, though. You're really pretty.» Feeling uneasy at his creepy gaze, she folded her hands over her chest, trying to look intimidating. It didn't work, not the least. It gave the same effect as a hand-folding hamster would have. Fluffy and adorable.

«I'm her sister. Who are you?»

«Ah! How rude of me,» The man said, bowing his head down. «My name is Ace, and I live across the hall of BC. I saw the door open and wondered if something had happened, that's why I came over to check on her.» When he stood up again, she realized how tall he really was. A warm smile filled her face. He was a friend of her sister and nobody scary. Relieved, she let out another sigh. The man chuckled. «I believe you left the door open. BC is really careful, even keeps it locked when she's home.»

«Yeah, it's all my fault. I was fetching my things in the car and totally forgot to lock it. I can't remember leaving the door agape, though.» The blond puzzled. The man chuckled slightly. It was a deep, charming sound.

«These doors are quite old, so they easily slide open if you don't lock them properly.» Nodding in understanding, she placed a finger on her chin. It was possible. She couldn't really remember how she had closed the door, just the rushing out.

«Seeing everything is fine, I'll be on my way. If you ever need anything, just knock. 825.» He gave another bow and tipped his imaginary hat. Bubbles giggled and waved a goodbye. Day one, and things seemed to go rather smooth. The neighbor – at least the one she had met – had been a real gentleman and she hadn't broken anything yet. Pleased with herself, Bubbles remembered the rest of her work, and proceeded to fetch the rest of her stuff, this time, she did remembered to lock the door.

It took a couple of rounds to empty the car, and it went rather smoothly. The elevator was always there when she came back, and soon enough, the apartment looked worse then when she had first entered. Smiling at herself, she placed her headset into her ears, remembered to lock the door to the apartment and stated cleaning up. After the little error, she wasn't going to take any chances. Luckily for her, Buttercup had big trash bags in one of the drawers in her kitchen. She threw in old food, boxes of milk, juice, pizza boxes and fast food. Half the work was done, and she made a bag for empty bottles, ready for recycling. Swaying her hips to the pop music, she placed all the dirty mugs, glasses, cutlers and plates into the dishwasher. She hadn't had one at her place, and was glad Buttercup had one. It made cleaning up rather easy. Next, she threw all the dirty cloths into the washing room. It was a rather large place, and she became delighted at the sight of a washing machine. It seemed like her sister knew what she needed. Bubbles had planes to get there at one point, but as a very unknown artist, she didn't make enough for it.

The feeling of melancholy slightly filled her. Both her sister had steady jobs and came quite well by, but she hadn't sold one painting for a year now. It had started with her first sponsor telling her he couldn't employ her any more, and thus she had found another. They quickly fired her because none could sell her paintings. The blond couldn't tell what had changed. She had kept on drawing the same living and touchy paintings as always, but people just didn't seem to enjoy her work any more. A tear fell down her cheek, and Bubbled allowed herself one sob, before wiping it away and continuing working. She was going to show them, by drawing a really good picture and become really famous.

Bubbles threw Buttercups underwear into the machine and read the description on how to and what. She started it up, and hummed her Spanish song. She grabbed a mop and bucket as she exited, filling it with water and readied the mop. Beginning to dance around herself and wiping the dust away, changing both the appearance and smell of the place. Opening a window, she giggled at the sunset. Time sure flew fast by. She drew a deep breath of the fresh air, and went for the dusting. Happy with her work, she nodded pleased to herself. She went for the last room, and wasn't surprised at all the cloths. Where did Buttercup keep all of them? And where had she gotten them? When she and her sister had split up, Bubbles herself had taken three boxes, her older sister Blossom had taken two, and Buttercup had barely filled half of one. She quickly rounded everything up and threw it into the washing room. It would take some time to wash everything, and she didn't know where to hang it up.

At the last round of dirty cloths, her stomach started growling. Remembering the green sisters allowance at whatever she wanted, Bubbles finds herself reaching for the cold refrigerator. Slowly opening, the corners of her mouth twitches. This was so typical her sibling. Mountain Dew, chocolate, beer and several fast food boxes. One of them were marked 'To Bubbles, BC' with a green stick note, together with a sugar free soda. It was heartwarming to see her sister still remembered what she loved to drink back in high school. Opening the box, she saw her favorite. Pasta and chicken, Chinese way. Sobbing in her laugh, she places it inside the microwave and waits for it to ding. They had all been independent for years now, but this reminded Bubbles that she was the youngest, and her older sister would always look out for her. Buttercup cared, in her own way.

The micro started beeping, and she opened it, pressing five different buttons before it stopped. She brought it with her into the living room. The sun was setting and painting the cream colored walls orange. The blond fished out her tools; paint, brushes, plates, stand and canvas. A fork inside the food box, she tightened her pigtails, placed her paint over her wood pad, and picked up her soft crays. She loved to mix different types of paintings and drawings. She grabbed two bites from the steaming food, studying her picture. She was going to paint the whole living room, not just the sun.

As she stood, she would paint the huge windows behind the white sofa as the colorful tongue of the sun licked everything it touched. Before starting, she texted Buttercup, asking if she wanted anything until she got home. It didn't take long before the phone light up and displayed the incoming message: ' _I will work late, but make yourself at home. You can use my bed if you want. We can sort things out more clearly tomorrow. Sorry about this, Bub._ ' Giggling at herself, she started painting. The first stroke of paint on both her finger and canvas, were blue. Bubbles were going to show everyone how great of an artist she was.

* * *

Buttercup was speeding down the highway as fast as the law let her. She had eight minutes, the girl noticed as she stared at her phone. It was 4:57, and she'd made it go too fast so she would stress to reach the time. It had helped her in her need several times, avoiding the unpleasant talk. Eight minutes from here? The brunette wondered as she passed the oh so known fast food restaurant to her left. It only took two minutes to get to work. She had saved for years to buy the black and green car, and it gave her great comfort with it's smooth acceleration and drift.

Arriving at the back entrance, she exited her car and locked it, double checking it. There was no way anyone were getting close to it with the alarm she had. It would go off if anyone touched it while it was locked. Sending her car one last look, she went inside of __Izis Backside__. It was one of the most attractive bars in Townsville. She had been lucky enough to get a job there as a bartender, and the money was sweet.

It allowed Buttercup to be herself. She could joke around with the guys, but could tell them to back off at any given moment if they became too daring. Taking a drink at work wasn't a big deal, as long as she knew what she was doing and didn't get smashed. Being one of the only ones that took her job serious, she had never been drunk while on duty, and she was proud of herself for it. When the costumer bought the drinks, it was too easy to empty a bottle.

Waving her hand at Mitch Mitchelson, her co-worker, whom nodded in return, she came behind the counter, taking in the faces. Most of the workers were regular and ordered the same. They loved her, because she would always remember them and knew what they wanted before anything was said.

«Good evening, Joe, George, Math,» she said, smiling at the older men sitting and chatting with Mitch. They all acknowledged her presence and started telling stories from the old times. She had heard them all, but kept being polite and smiled, joking along and gasping.

People came and went, ordering different things, and she knew them all by heart, mixing, clowning and making it all into a show. Girls would clap at her and give her extra for not wasting their time with boring waiting, and the guys would joke around about what more she could do. She had heard it all before, and it didn't bother her any more. It had been hell before, and would clearly have been fired if it hadn't been for Mitch stepping up and holding her back, telling her how to do things and how to react to situations. She owed him much.

Everything went smooth, until something caught her eyes. It was a movement of greetings, hands and exchanging of illegal drugs. She'd seen it all before, and knew how to spot it and how it went. Her jaw tightened as she was polishing one of the glasses, looking away. It became more and more difficult to ignore, because she saw it more frequently as the night approached. It was illegal, didn't the manager care? She should take actions, she figured as she placed the shiny object down, not trusting herself with it. It would make a very interesting dodgeball.

A hand came down on her shoulder, and Mitch sent her a warning look with his warm, brown eyes. «Let it slide, BC. Someone bought up Izis yesterday and this is how things are going to be from now it.» He leaned into her ear and told her in a calm tone to let it slide if she enjoyed her job. Her shoulder fell and she picked up another glass, rubbing it with her handkerchief. He really was the best when it came to controlling her. Mitch knew exactly what to say.

«Who could buy _Izis_? Isn't it one of the most earning bars in this city?» Her eyes darted from the dealers and down to her work. The three older men thanked them for the conversation before leaving form their home, children and wife waiting.

«It is,» Mitch said, mixing a drink for a girl with curly, red hair. She looked a lot like her sister Blossom if she had been the party type, and a complete skank. The redhead sent Buttercup a death glare, and she grinned at her. How she loved to annoy people. However, Mitch wasn't off the hook. He had dodged the question, and that wasn't his style. Something cold dropped to her stomach and she stopped her working.

«Mitch. Who bought up Izis?» The brunette scratched his chin, eyes avoiding meeting hers.

«Please don't freak out, BC. You probably don't have to meet the manager ever anyway.» Again, stalling.

«Mitch,» her tone was dangerous.

«No, please. Listen, don't you need this job?» he flipped three flasks at the same time, impressing another brunette. She was leaning on her elbow and giving him a dreamy look.

«Here you go, lovely,» the man winked, and the green Utonium rolled her eyes. He was such a ladies man, but that didn't mean she was going to drop the subject.

«Yes, I do. I really need this job, and it pays well, but -»

«Then do as I always tell you to, for the sake of your job. Just roll with it, don't take it personal. It's already done and he probably won't come here.»

«He?» Then it hit her like a ton of bricks. She immediately understood why he didn't want to tell her and was trying to avoid the questions. Her eyes lit up, and he started to shake his head furiously. No wonder Mitch hadn't told her. No wonder he was keeping it a secret. There was only one person she hated in the whole town. Really hated.

«No, BC, don't. Just calm down.»

«Butch Jojo owns _Izis backside_ now!?» She roared at him, breaking the glass in her hands. A girl let's out a screech of surprise as the shattered glass hits the floor. Luckily, most doesn't seem to notice due to the loud music and smoke in the bar, but some turned their gaze their way. Mitch shouts at a blond to take over, as he drags the dangerous female into the back, and away from all those curious people.

«I ought to know he wouldn't let me be, that fucking shit head. I'm going to murder him in his sleep,» Buttercup rants, gritting her teeth.

«Calm down, BC,» Mitch says, gripping at her shoulders and stares into her eyes. He reminded her of a puppy, and it was hard for anyone to refuse anything he asked. She remember how he had been a real douche bag back in preschool and up until they hit high school. Something had chanced that summer, and he worked both hard to get good grades and make up for everything he had done. Mitch had matured more than anyone she had ever encountered. He was now her best friend, and the only one besides her sister whom could calm her down.

«It is not the end of the world. Sure, he's a major prick and wants to get into your head, and that's why you have to kick back double so hard. Don't let it effect you, don't let it bother you. Forget him, and do the job. You enjoy it, right? Talking with Joe, George and mixing up drinks to random strangers.» Her look could have melted metal, and he sighs.

«What does the blond one, I don't remember her name, with the purple dress always order?»

«Sex on the beach,» she said, automatically.

«And the guy with the biggest mustache I've ever seen?»

«Scotch with three ice cubes. He always stays two hours, but never takes more than two drinks.»

«How about the guy in the suit, blond hair?»

«White Russian, but I don't understand how this has anything to do with Butch.»

«Everything, BC. You love your job, and you're awesome at it. Don't let him come in here and try to ruin that for you. You're strong, BC. You can get over this and show him you're better than he'll ever be.»

«Hell yeah,» she said, flashing him a smile. In everything they had done, she had always been superior. The only reason he was her 'boss' was because of Mojo's money. He was nothing without it. The green eyed girl started laughing like a maniac, psyching herself up with her battle shout.

«Thanks, man,» Buttercup grinned.

«You're welcome, BC. Now let's get back to work before it becomes too much for our co-workers,» the brunette laughed, and they did so. It was still nagging at her, but not so much any more. Mitch really knew how to inspire people, and she sometimes felt like he wasted it all in this bar. The green puff loved working with him, but the man could easily do bigger, more important things.

The music filled her head and she started humming, a soft smile on her face. It had to be Mitch changing. He knew it was her favorite at the moment, and it took away all of her stress. The mood didn't last long, however, as she took notice of the same beanie wearing guy, dealing out more of his drugs. The sight of the small, plastic bag with the white powder had it boiling for her. She fished up her phone and dialed a number.

«BC?» Kathelin asked, her blond co-worker. She was a nervous girl with a sweet smile. Like her sister, she was a goodie-two-shoes and didn't want to break any rules. Someone picked up at the other end before she could answer her.

«Yeah, I'd like to report a felony. Yeah, drug dealing. Inside _Izis Backside_. Anonymous, please,» She answered his last question before hanging up, with a promise of a patrol sent her way. A smirk fell on her lips.

A few seconds later, the door were opened, and a man in jeans and a black t-shirt, marked in red, dripping letters 'Death Dealers' entered. His hair was short, spiky and he flashed everyone a shining smile. Those forest green eyes were a couple shades darker than herself, and she felt her inside blacken at the sight of the person she hated the most. Mitch was too busy on the other side, serving a gang of girls to notice. Butch Jojo went straight for the bar, taking a place in front of Buttercup. He held her gaze and smirked pleased.

«I'll take two shots of Jeger,» his voice had darkened since last time she had seen them, and if it hadn't been for her automatic system working, she would have just gaped at him, or punched him straight in the face. Instead she turned her back and poured up, placing the drinks in front of him.

«You're as hot as ever,» he commented as he slammed the empty shot glass down. Tightening her mouth, she could feel the distaste of his presence. Fucking pig, she thought and continued with her work. Taking Mitch's advice was the best thing to do. She could just ignore him.

«Oh, that's cold,» he commented, elbowing the girl next to him. She had a long v-neck and blinked his way, and he winked at her. «You're one fine piece, but unfortunately I'm hers tonight. Call me tomorrow,» he said, pointing at Buttercup and handed the brunette a card with his number on it. She couldn't see him doing it, but she could feel the stare and finger. Giggling at him, she took the paper and stuffed it into her bra, walking away.

«And why is that?» Buttercup said, glaring over her shoulder.

«Well what do you know, she talks,» he said, taking the second shot, staring into her eyes as he did so. It was a challenge, and she'd be damned to turn it down. As their orbs locked, she kept working, taking orders, polishing glasses and sending the dirty ones into the dishwasher, then the steamer. She was not going to ask him again. Every single word that came out of his mouth was making her insides tick closer to explosion.

«A Cuba Libre,» a voice said, and Buttercup started working, tearing her eyes away and flashed a smile at the guy. He had brown hair and blue eyes, and his body was well fit. The girl handed him his drink, and he winked at her.

«Get lost, buddy. She's mine,» Butch said, breaking up his knuckles in demonstration. The guy backed away, recognizing the infamous Jojo brother. He quickly apologized before wandering off. Buttercup growled.

«I'm not yours,» she spat with poisoning words, hoped he would die from them. «I never have been, and I never will be.» The guy chuckled before ordering another shot. She didn't hesitate. If he got too drunk, she could have him thrown out, manager or not. It was but a wish. Having superpowers also gave them a huge tolerance toward drugs and alcohol. They could get wasted and face smashed, but it just required more than most.

«I disagree,» Butch said, smiling. She snorted at him and leaned on her elbow, face close to his. He reeked of cigarets, alcohol and something sweet. It made her want to vomit all over him.

«I suppose it's very though on your ego when a girl doesn't want you because you're such a low life, but here's the deal. We'll never date, Jojo. And I'm never even going to stand being around you.»

«Words, words, words,» Butch said, fishing up a bag from his pocket. The content was brown, and she knew it too well. He saw her horrid stare and flashed her a gross smile.

«Want some?»

«Fuck yo-» Her sentence was cut off as an officer entered the bar and everyone turned. It quickly became quiet as he walked around, glancing at every face and analyzing. Some guys were sweating and avoiding eye contact. He came up to the counter and tipped his hat to Butch, staring at the bag on the counter. _Got'cha!_ Buttercup screamed on the inside, and struggled to hold a smile back. He'd be sent away for sure. The timing couldn't have been more perfect.

«Evening Mr. Jojo,» the man said.

«Officer,» Butch smiled and gave him a nod.

«We got a call there's being sold illegal drugs at your bar.» The blond man took a seat beside him and everyone went back to normal.

«You did? I suppose whomever called had that right,» Butch said, picking out five blank, small bags of different colored content while staring Buttercup straight in the eyes. Her heart sank to her stomach as the man pointed at the second bag, and fished out his money. They exchanged and he stuffed it inside his pocket.

«Well, I don't see anything, so you have yourself a nice evening, Mr. Jojo,» the police officer said, strolling out of the bar. He threw a 'later' after him as he went. A smirk was steady on Butch's face and he put them back inside of his pants. He winked a finger at Buttercup to come closer. She didn't but backed away instead. A hand grabbed her and yanked her by the collar.

«I'll let you in on a little secret,» he whispered in her ear as she was struggling to get away, ripping at his iron fist and pulling. «My dad owns this town, and there's nothing you or your sisters can do about it. So you better accept that right away, Butterfly.» She managed the break out of his grip and pushed away, hissing.

«It was nice seeing you again, Butters. I'm having a feeling we'll meet again very soon,» he snickered as he took his last shot. Slamming some money down, he winked at her before leaving, waving as he did so. She gave him the finger. If she could, she would jump him and punch that smirk off his face. Mitch came up to her as Butch disappeared and placed a hand on her shoulder. She turned to him.

«Good job, BC. Want to take the night shift? No one else can.» She gave a huge sigh, trying to wash the anger away. It was boiling inside her. «Think about the money.» He didn't have to tell her, because that was what she was doing now. Picking up the money on the counter, she nodded her head. Just a little more, and she would be out of this forsaken city. Just then a text ticked in, and she looked at the display. It was from her little sister. " _Do you want anything until you get home? I can even make dinner if you want. Xoxo_ ". So typical her little sister. She smiled and sent back that she didn't need anything and how she could use her bed. Seeing she would be working all night now, they could sort things out the day after. It would just have to wait. She sent the message.

«Can I have a word with you, Buttercup?» the manager assistant, Dani, asked her. She was nervous and gripping his phone. It gave her a bad feeling.

«Yeah, sure, Dani.» Mitch nodded as telling her he could take over. She gave him a pat on the shoulder and went after the blond man. He lead her out and was moving uncontrollably around.

«What is it?» she asked, immediately regretting it.

«Uhm, people from higher up just called, and yeah. I'm terribly sorry, but you're fired.» The words were swooning in her head, and it felt like she was falling. She knew she was in shock, because she couldn't move, and her thought were racing. It didn't last long as wrath built up and came out as a low, dangerous growl. There was only one person that could be capable of doing this, and that was Butch fucking Jojo. Dani was biting his lips, probably expecting being punched, and he was so right. She wanted to punch him straight through the roof, but taking her anger out on him wouldn't be fair at all. The poor man was just the messenger.

«Fine,» she simply said and stormed out, pulling her things with her. She was so done with the place. Screw this city. Opening her car, she speed off, burning a little of her tires into the asphalt as she went. She was aiming for the north boarder of the city, driving in the sunset. The cliche was staring her in the face, and she hated it. Buttercup hated everything, and desperately needed something to get her anger out on. Speed always helped her. Violence, brutality and speed always cheered her up.

With one hand on the steering wheel, she shifted the gear to a higher tier and passed the sign saying 'You're now leaving Townsville. Come back soon.' _Yeah right_ , she thought and went even faster. They could all go fuck themselves. Buttercup took turn after turn, driving further and further away.

At a sudden turn, she saw a small child in the road. Her eyes widen like a dear at the headlights fell on her, and Buttercup cursed loudly as she turned left, and out of the road. Her car hit a rock, and went spinning around, sending her flying out of the front window and the car straight on top of her, sliding several meters before halting. The dust had yet to lay down as the child came off the road, slowly melting away, growing at least three feet in the process. Red smoke surrounded the creature as a girly giggle filled the air and it changed into a tall man, red in the skin with black hair and beard. He wore a business suit and black shoes. His belt was engraved in black gold, shining with the letters 'Devil'.

He approached the car, and knelt down as the smoke was slowly subsiding. He heard a cough before the car flipped over and Buttercup was reviled. Metal was sticking out of her right side, and she yanked it out in a quick move. A scream filled the air as the blood splattered the earth. She was dusty and her clothes ripped. Her skin was cut here and there, one of her feet were sticking awkwardly the other way.

«Oh my,» the man giggled.

«Him, you son of a bitch. Are you trying to kill me?» She shouted angry and sent a punch straight to his face. It went through as the demon became smoke, and formed back right away.

«Not really, darling, but it's not a bad idea.»

«My car! Look what you did to my car!» She screamed, looking at the destroyed wreck. Her beautiful car was in worse shape than her, and it was breaking her heart. «Do you have any idea how long I saved for it? How much it cost me?» Him giggled.

«Yeah. I do, but I didn't make you do anything. You could have chosen to drive over the little girl.»

«And I would have had I known it was you in there,» she growled, breaking her foot back in place, feeling it already starting to heal. «Don't you have anything better to do than harass me?»

«Sweet Buttercup. I didn't come here to bother you. I actually came here with a proposal.»

«And what makes you think I'll take it? Let even listen to you?» She snorted, standing up and dusting her cloths. She cracked her jaw back in place, not even flinching at the pain it caused her. She wasn't the green sister for nothing.

«Because you will gladly take it.» She rose an eyebrow at him, and gave her broken car a long, heartbreaking stare, muttering under her breath. Him snapped his finger while rolling his eyes, and the car bent and eeled back in place, returning to it's former, beautiful self. Eying the sweet ride, she turned to him with her arms crossed.

«You got my attention, despite fixing something you broke in the first place.» The devil himself let out another giggle.

«It's about the thing we both loath most in this world right now. The Jojo brothers.»

* * *

Blossom Utonium was one of the few females in the Oil stocks that had made well for herself. She had started at the bottom and worked her way up, acing every hindrance in her way. Being brilliant in both science and computer affairs, people called her the ultimate genius. Whatever the crisis or unsolvable problem that came up, she always managed to fix it. Stocks went down? Easily focus on the most popular part and perfect it. Technical issues? No problem, she had it all figured out. The girl knew her way around, and could easily make her own computer from scratch. Needless to say, she had managed to climb high.

«Ms. Utonium,» Mr. Hanks called after her, the boss of her working place. He caught up to her, nose in her papers. She adjusted her glasses and flashed him a smile.

«Mr. Hanks. I hope everything works as they should. How do you think it went?»

«Marvelous, my dare. You're simply brilliant, and an offer has been made over you. The price went sky high,» the chubby man laughed wholehearted and she smiled uncertain.

«Another company have bought me up?» she asked. It was normal to move around, considering her value increased by every step she took. The work never bother her, it was the new people. They were scared of here, because she was so good at her job. Nobody wanted to be second place, and standing next to her, that's what they were. She loved where she was at the moment; the people were nice, and everyone accepted her as their own. If she moved, they were sure to talk nasty behind her back about how she though she was better; as if nothing had changed the last couple of months. Blossom never considered herself superior to anyone, and just wanted to do her best, always.

«They sure have. It's been a pleasure having you, Ms. Utonium. I hope we meet again in the future, because you make a pleasant conversation.» She nodded her head and smiled.

«It's been a pleasure being here, Mr. Hanks, and I also enjoy our conversations. Especially about the possible reaction between-»

«Another time, Utonium. I have to get to my next meeting. You will find an escort to your new company downstairs. Good day,» the man interrupted before hurrying down the hall, leaving her a little empty. She couldn't help the sinking feeling of the man actually being glad to get ride of her. Blossom knew it bothered others when she was smarter than them and corrected them, but she couldn't help herself. She was biologically built that way.

Sighing, she turned and went the other way, to her former office. Looks like her presentation on the meeting was a huge hit, seeing she was already bought up. She didn't like the idea of being sold by her company, so she saw it as advancing upwards in the system instead. Her thoughts wandered off to the next working place. How were her co-workers? Would they also fear her or would they be nice? How was the company, and what company? A smile played on her face. _This will be another adventure, Professor_ , she thought as her eyes stared out at the colorful sky. It was already late and the sun was progressing downward. She would just be presented for the next company before the day was over.

She reached the elevator and took it down, assuming they had already packed her office and shipped it off. Having done it so many times before, it had become routene for her. There was one thing she wouldn't miss at all, and that would be the music in that tiny box. It was tasteless to say the least. As it reached the first floor, she couldn't get out fast enough and hurried for the lobby.

«Ms. Utonium?» a woman's voice asked and she turned toward it. She had shoulder length, brown hair, her bangs splitting on the middle. Her eyes were green and she had thick lipstick. She wore a tight miniskirt, white blouse and a matching jacket. Standard office cloths, she thought. Everyone else had them, but she didn't bother. She had jeans and pink top under her pink and gray squared shirt. The arms were rolled up, making it easy to work, revealing her perfect skin. Her nails were bit and uneven, but her fingers were long.

«Yes?» Blossom answered and held her hand out. The woman looked down at it before back at her, not taking it. _Rude_ , she thought.

«A limo is waiting outside for you. It will take you to your new working place. Your schedule will be given to you by your superior in the vehicle.» She moved to her side and gestured for the redhead to follow.

«My things?»

«Already been taken care of, Miss,» the woman explained and walked in front, not checking if she was following. Her high heels clicked as she went, and Blossom felt like she was prowling, her snickers not making any sound at all. She held the door opened and waited for Blossom to get in before slamming it shut.

«What's with the glasses?» A voice said, and she snapped her head in the direction of the well known vocals. She saw red, literally. Brick Jojo had crimson hair, a coupe of shades darker than herself, and red eyes. They made him intimidating and threatening. The intelligence shining through didn't help, and she remembered him laughing their teacher up in the face when they thought they had caught him slacking, but he always knew the answer. It had been years since she had last seen him.

«How the hell did you find me in Europe?» She questioned, pulling at the car door. She was not staying. Thoughts didn't help her much, because it was already locked.

«Sit down. My company just bought you up, so I own you for the next year,» he said, no joke in his voice. He was going through a couple of papers, ruffled a couple of sheets together before handing them to her. She carefully took them, not touching him. Her orbs wandered to the fabric and she quickly shuffled through the first papers before stopping up.

«There's a problem right here,» she spoke up, holding her finger at it. The limo had started up and Brick changed places to sit beside her.

«Show me,» he said, his rough voice tickling her cheek. She sent him an angry look before explaining the problem. «Why?» he asked, and she sighed heavily, before explaining how she had figured out and came to the solution. When done, the man took the papers out of her hand and moved to the other side, across her.

«Good. You passed the test, Blossom. You can start tomorrow morning.»

«Wait, where? What kind of work.» Brick handed her three sheets more and she glanced over them, before stopping up at one word.

«Wow, wow, wait. Hold up. Townsville? I'm not going back there. Forget it.»

«You have to. I own you.» This was the Brick she knew. His sadistic smile were back in place and he gave her a look that made her feel so small and petite. Pathetic to the bone. «Congrats, Bloss, you're now officially my whore,» he snickered and leaned into the seat, placing his feet on the seat beside her and hands behind his head.

«No,» Blossom said, placing her hands in her lap. «I refuse.»

«You can't,» he said, closing his eyes. «The contract you signed makes you bound to the highest bidding company for a year.»

«Not if I get fired.» Her voice was steady. Anything was better than working for the Jojo's, and she wasn't going back to Townsville. Too many bad memories. In respect of herself, she couldn't.

«Oh, we changed that part,» Brick muttered, and threw another bunker of papers at her. He sure was good at it. Scuffing at it, she found the right page right away. She had written it, after all. To her horror they had changed it. The contract stated that if she missed a day of work without a doctors consent, she would own them one hundred thousand dollars for every passing day.

«One hundred thousand?» She shouted, almost fainting at the number. Her male counterpart laughed at her outburst and sat up.

«Isn't it great? You didn't even notice the small change as you signed the contract.»

«When, when did you do this?» she couldn't help the disappointment and anger in her voice. Brick was going too far, and this was low, even for him.

«Around Christmas some time. 25th? 26th? I can't remember. See it as my present to you,» he laughed again, cruelly. «More like a present to me.»

«This is a new low, even for you,» she whispered, eyes glaring at him. She snarled with her mouth and her left eye twitched. She couldn't jump him here. In their fights, several years ago, she had won due to tactic, and that wasn't the most tactic thing to do at the moment. Brick was stronger due to his physical body, and in return, she had better flexibility and reaction. «Let me off. I'm going home.»

«We emptied your place, just as a reassurance you would show up to work and not run away to the moon. You're coming with me back to Townsville, today, right now. We're already headed for the airport. Yes it is paid for, and yes you have to sit beside me.» Blossom stared at her lap. Would the window break if she punched at it? Most likely. She hadn't used her powers in year, but she could feel them surging through her system, every day. «How long are you going to run, Blossom?» he asked, eyes on her. She hated those red orbs.

«The rest of my life. To another galaxy if I have to, to escape you.»

«But you won't. Because of your sisters.» He sat up, leaning forward on his knees, folding his fingers. It was a typical business move. He knew he had her.

«Yes, I care for my sisters. Like you care for your brothers.»

«Then you will come back to our city with me,» he said, leaning back again. «Who knows what Butch might do to Buttercup while you're not there?»

«If he touches her, I swear to god-» her voice was dangerous and her eyes could kill anything they aimed at. Brick was calm as always, loving to push her buttons.

«Na, not yet. He might, but he might leave her alone. Less likely, but hey. You'd have to be there to find out. And Bubbles. You know she's having a hard time. Can't even sell her paintings any more.» And he had her with that. Blossom let out a heavy sigh in defeat, and begrudged his victory to him. He played dirty, because he was the villein, and he had won this battle.

«Alright,» she said, voice low. Brick grinned to himself, pleased.

They rode in silence to the airport, and Blossom exited the limo first, seeing all the servants taking their luggage. Where they came from, she had no idea. Brick told her the pink suitcases were her stuff, and she nodded, annoyed. She didn't want to go back, and just seeing him made her more annoyed as time passed. They took a private yet, and glancing around on the inside made her gasp. It was beautiful and elegant.

«Do you shit money or something?» she spoke up, not really knowing she had voiced her thought. The redhead laughed as he took a seat.

«Na, I don't, but Mojo does.» At the name of the monkey, Blossom found herself more than annoyed. She was straight out angry at this point. Drawing a deep breath, she sat furthest away from him and stared outside the window, imagined flying. It had been years since last time. She remembered the feeling of being free, capable of going anywhere she wanted.

«So, the deal about the glasses,» Brick said, sitting down beside her, trapping her between him and the window. She cursed her carelessness. He was way too close for her liking. In the last few years, she hadn't let anyone in this close, besides from when she handed out papers and reports to others.

«And the brown contacts,» he added, pulling her glasses off her nose bridge. Quickly trying to snap them back didn't work as he moved them out of her reach, twirling in his hand. The plane came in position and the belt sign light up, indicating they had to keep their belts on and stay seated under the going up. She sighed and turned away from him, stared outside the window as they went faster and faster down the track before taking off into the air. The plane was slightly shaking and before long, it stopped and became pleasantly quiet.

«They're not even real glasses,» Brick stated, staring at the plastic.

«Of course not,» Blossom answered him, leaning on her elbow. «We're superhuman, all our senses are perfect.»

«So why the glasses, and contacts?» he wondered, staring at the pink junk. There was no metal under the lenses, and it made her eyes look more bright and contoured. Despite the lack of need for them, she liked wearing them.

«If you haven't noticed, nobody else on the planet has pink eyes. It's an exotic color, and it scares people. Most has brown eyes. The glasses makes me look less perfect, for some reason,» she answered him.

«You want to be ordinary and mix in?» he said, and she snapped her head in his direction. He looked genuinely curious.

«Of course I do. Don't you?» It was stupid to ask, because she already knew the answer. The Rowdyruff boys were proud of their powers, and used every chance they got to demonstrate them.

«Na. I like being extraordinary. I'm keeping the glasses. You'll get them after a week of work at my company.» Blossom rolled her eyes, telling how to do whatever he wanted. He owned her, but only for a year. She could keep out with him for twelve months if it involved him being the boss. It meant she didn't have to see him more often than once a month for briefing on how things were going, and secretly, she had wanted to go come to see her sisters. Brick told her how boring she had become, and switched seats, leaving her alone. She hid a smile. Just like she planned. If he didn't get any response on his mischievous games, he grew bored and quickly moved on. Still the same child as in preschool. He left her alone the rest of the flight, and she almost thanked him for it.

As the flight went down several hours later, Blossom woke up to the plane shaking. They landed without any problems and as they exited, Brick left her there, telling her they would meet again tomorrow. She sighed and ignored him, and breathed in the fresh air. _Better call Buttercup or Bubbles to pick me up_ , she thought as she fished her phone out of her pocket. They were never going to believe what had just happened. It ringed once, twice, three times before she picked up.

«Blossom! I can't believe you're calling me, how are you? What are you up to? How is work?» The redhead laughed, pulling her suitcases after her and toward the parking. «I'll tell you everything. Can you come and pick me up at the airport?»

«You're here?» Bubbles screeched in the other end. «Oh my god, yes, straight away. I'll be right there,» was the last thing she said before hanging up. The pinkette chuckled to herself. The sun was nearly behind the horizon, taking the cold with it. Blossom didn't mind. Ice and low temperature had never been a big deal to her. The girl could breath ice if she wanted to, after all. It took some time, but the baby blue car swung up to her in no time, and her little sister practically tackled her through the car window.

«I've missed you so much! Why didn't you tell us you were coming home so early? We could have been here to pick you up at once. Or at least I could have. Buttercup is still at work. I sent her a text an hour ago.» Blossom chuckled as she opened the trunk and started loading. «You have a lot with you,» Bubbles stated as they opened the door to the back seat and pushed the rest in there.

«Everything,» Blossom said as she sat in the car, her blue sister starting the engine.

«Everything? No way, are you moving back to Townsville?» Her bright smile made it almost worth it, if it hadn't been for her employer and reason she was there.

«Brick didn't give me a choice.» The blond eyebrows went way far up in her forehead and Bubbles gaped.

«Wait, back up. What happened? What do you mean Brick? As in _the_ Brick Jojo?» Blossom nodded her head.

«I'll tell you everything when we get to Buttercups. I hope she doesn't mind me crashing there until I can find my own place. It was kind of right away. And I'm kind of sorry about your art job. I know how much it meant to you.» A sad expression came upon her sisters face, before she brushed it off.

«It'll be alright.» They talked about old times on the short trip home, and their sour faces had quickly turned together with the happy memories. As they entered Buttercup's apartment, they were both laughing loud, until they laid eyes on their green sister.

«Buttercup. I didn't think you'd be home before later, or tomorrow,» Bubbles said, wrinkling her eyebrows. Their green eyed sister stared at her older sibling, mouth half agape.

«I'm home?» Blossom said, uncertain. Buttercup was always explosive, and it rarely was any good. The green puff closer her mouth before going in for a hug. It was tight and almost hurt her. It said so much more than words ever could, and Blossom understood. She hugged back and stroke her back. «I'm home. Sorry for leaving.»

«Moron,» Buttercup muttered and they heard Bubbles giggle as she joined in on the hug. They hadn't seen her in years, and it felt a lot better to be home. When they pulled apart, all three were smiling.

«I have something to tell you,» both Blossom and Buttercup said in union, and the oldest gestured for her to speak. «Butch bought up the bar I worked at, _Izis backside_. He came in and gloated about it. Not even 5 minutes later, I'm fired.» Blossom gasped dramatically and gave her en extra hug. «I'm so sorry,» she said at the same time and the green girl waved it off.

«That's weird. Brick bought me up today. Sounds weird, but I had a presentation, and companies makes offers, and I went for the highest without knowing it came from him. He even picked me up and put me on the plane here. I start tomorrow,» the pink girl sighed. «Could I stay over, pretty please? Just until I find my own place.»

«No worries,» Buttercup waved her hand before becoming serious again. «Him contacted me. He crashed my car, then fixed it, and made me an offer.» Blossom was concentrating hard.

«An offer?» she encouraged.

«To get ride of the Jojo boys.»

«Him cannot be trusted,» Blossom said, waving with her hands, making her point come strongly out.

«I understand that,» Buttercup hissed. «Gee, I'm not an idiot, Bossy. I declined and came right home, which reminds me. Did you forget to lock the door?» she placed her hands on her hips and stared at the blond sister, whom had been silent until then.

«I- Ah, I think I might have forgotten it again when Blossom called. It just came so fast over me. I'm really sorry.» She placed a finger on her chin and looked down, reminding of an ashamed dog.

«Again?» Buttercup asked.

«Yeah, I did once when I was fetching my things out of the car earlier today, but your neighbor came and checked on you, so it's all right.» They both saw Buttercup's eyes widen and her hand standing on ends.

«Which one?» Bubbles took a few seconds to think over it, before remembering him.

«He said his name was Ace and that you guys are friends. Even though he thought I was your girlfriend and he had always suspected you of being a dyke.» The green girl let out a howl before storming off into her room. The two remaining girls shared a look, both clueless.

«It's gone,» Buttercup shouted, before storming past them and into the hallway, going straight for Ace's door. She started banging and shouting, demanding her money back. Bubbles face became really sad realizing how badly she had messed things up, and she lowered her head even more. Blossom patted her shoulder and flashed her a calming smile.

«Have you seen Boomer? It can't be a coincidence that both Brick and Butch is in our lives again.» The blond girl met her eyes and shook her head.

«I haven't seen him at all, for years.»

«Do be careful. I'm pretty sure he's going to show up.» The hand squeezed the shoulder, trying to support her as best she could.

* * *

Thoughts? If you like it, please leave a review on what you enjoyed the most. I don't know when I will update again, but my intention is to keep writing on this story.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2. The beginning of the end

Blossom was stressed out of her mind. It was her first day at work regardless of whom she was working for, and she needed to make an impression. She had several times been the odd one out because of what she could do, and how she dressed. Cursing the redheaded thief that had skipped away with her glasses, the pink eyed girl was chewing on her bread, sipping at her juice. Buttercup had left somewhere in the middle of the night for god knows where, and Bubbles was working the stove, humming the bacon juicy.

The pinkette had no idea how her baby sister were able to make such wonderful food, but it stuck with her no matter her age. Another thoughtful bite went inside her mouth, as Blossom thought about her outfit. What could she wear? Should she pick the same type of stick up office cloths the woman working for Brick had had, or go with something more casual, like pants and a shirt? God damn, she had no idea. Glancing over at her little sister, she swallowed down asking for help.

«Bubbles?» it came out low, and rather forced. The blond turned around and gave her older sibling her full attention.

«Yes?» the girl chirped. No matter who you were, her mood was going to impress. Buttercup had been a raging hell yesterday over her loss of work, and had already started on finding another, but the blond kept to hers; wanting to make her artist dream come true. It was truly admirable.

«I was just wondering, seeing it's never really been my thing and all, but,» stopping herself, Blossom bit her bottom lip. It was difficult to ask for help. It had always been her solving problems, figuring things out on her own and going with her gut, but right now, she needed someone else's gut to talk for her. The blue eyed girl was waiting for her to finish, holding all the patience in the world.

«But, ehm. How should I dress for my first day?» If it was even possible, Bubbles lit up even more, flashing her a over happy smile. As if her mood wasn't enough to describe what kind of person the blue puff was, she started jumping up and down.

«You're asking me for help? Oh, you have no idea how happy that makes me!» the girl giggled, making her sister almost regret her decision. Just almost. Imaging how happy it made her, wasn't very hard considering the scenario she was watching. Her sister was an open book when it came to emotions, easily showing wholeheartedly how she felt, at all times. That was the way it had always been.

«First of all, what kind of company are you working for?» The blond moved the pan off the stove and emptied the content on their plates, before putting it down on the cold metal across the previously used.

«I work with effectively finding, extracting and storing oil, cleaning it into it's purest and most valuable state before shipping it off,» the redhead explained as best she could, but Bubbles just cocked her head to the side, remaining a question mark. A sigh was heard.

«My job is to find oil anywhere, take it out of the ground, or under water before using chemicals to make it better at working in cars and such, then send it off to the highest payer,» Blossom tried to explain again.

«Oh,» her blond sister said, wrinkling her eyes in a thoughtful expression. «Do you work with machines, or at the office or?»

«More like everything,» the redhead muttered. It was a very huge job and so much to keep track on, that she preferred to work alone.

«Everything? Oh, wow,» Bubbles gasped. It made the redhead scratch the back of her neck, before sending her a smile. It took a few seconds for her blond sister to think, but she eventually moved out to the living room and started to roam her sisters boxes.

«These are a really nice color. So very you,» the girl commented as she quickly flipped through her stuff, looking at her cloths. The girl turned around herself, staring at the open cases and rising her eyebrows. Uh-oh, this could not be good.

«If you want my suggestion,» she spoke slowly, «then go with what you're currently wearing, but take some high heels.» The redhead took a look at herself. It was the same outfit she had wore yesterday, and her favorite combination. Brick was going to judge the hell out of her for using the same cloths two days on a row, but screw him. If she was right about her job, she wouldn't meet him any time soon.

«Thanks.» A smile lit up on her face and she hugged her sister, before taking a look at the clock. Still in good time, just the way she wanted it. «I'll be leaving for work now. It might take some time to get around and find where to go, so I'm gonna give myself a heads up.»

«Alright, take care,» her blond sister giggled before stopping her, half way through the door. «Want to borrow my car?» The keys in her hand were dangling, and it only took half a second for the redhead to make up her mind.

«Yeah, that would be great, thanks, Bubs,» Blossom said as she caught the flying object and exited the door, waving at her baby sister. Making her way to the elevator, she noticed someone else waiting for it. He had a very expensive suit on and blond hair, standing to all ends in a purposely made bedhead. Blossom wasn't one to stare, so she adjusted her gaze to the moving light. It hit their floor and they both entered, the man clicking the first floor. As they exited, she thought he said something, and turned toward him. He had turned away from her, and she could only watch the back of his head as he moved away. This man gave her the creeps, and she quickly sent Bubbles a text, reminding her to keep the door closed at all times.

Hurrying along the way, she clicked the car keys, and Bubbles baby blue car flashed. The pink puff lit the engine and steered the weal, removing the hand brake, taking looks in all mirrors and drove the car. She knew the addresses in the whole town by heart, and quickly found the road to her new working place. Despite it being the Jojo's, she could not afford to skip any day in pure protest. One hundred thousand? How the hell did she get into that mess?

She was slightly concerned for Buttercup. The green girl could be drastic and nobody could stop her, not even Blossom any more. Not after the incident. Her sister did whatever she wanted, and it didn't make any different if she ranted or tried to lecture her. In fact, it had the opposite effect and made Buttercup do dangerous stuff, just in spite of being told not to.

What her other sister meant, she had no idea what she was going to do with Bubbles. Being stubborn about what she wanted and kept pushing was truly something to admire, but it only got her so far. It was very weird. When the girl had first started painting and selling them, people couldn't get enough, not just those in Townsville. People from around the world loved her paintings and would race to get them, and then it suddenly stopped. Just like that. No warning, or explanation.

Only one thing could cause such an effect, and that was Mojo Jojo. He had the power and money to crush whatever he wanted, and they were the next target. At least her sister hadn't been hurt, and Blossom hoped it wouldn't come to that. If it did, they wouldn't be prepared and their ability to fight was too weakened.

A traffic cork had her sitting in her car, staring down at her own hands. Could she still make them glow with her chemical-X? Was it even in her system? A couple of years back, she remember catching a cold, and it had scared the living hell out of her. Superhumans didn't get sick from regular colds. As a child, she couldn't remember being sick one day, not even a cough. Expect from the time she discovered her ice breath.

But on a more serious notch, could she make the powers work? It felt odd, trying to manifest powers into her hands after such a long time out of practice. Nothing visible was happening, but she felt an odd sensation of tingling in her fingertips. Trying harder, she focused. If not able to blow anything up, at least she could make them glow, right? Just surge the power out of her skin and into her hands wasn't so hard, was it? It had been natural for her as a child, but now, over fifteen years later, sitting in her car and waiting for the light to change to green, she couldn't even make them glow. They just pricked and her head started throbbing from the concentration.

A car honked behind her, making her jump in her seat. The light had switched and she accelerated away, embarrassed and annoyed. It bothered how her control freak self had lost control over something so essential like her powers. Pouting, she reached her destination and struggled to find an open parking slot. After a couple of ups and downs, she saw an open spot and went for it, careful with her sisters car.

The building was impressive, standing tall over all the others around. It was blue and filled with windows, a huge _Jojo Stocks_ , circling around, on the top. _Typical Mojo_ , Blossom thought with a slight twitch of the eyebrow. He had to be flashing.

Marching toward the building she entertained herself by looking at all the cars. They were expensive ones, polluting the air by twice the amount as normal cars. For some reason, most seemed to fancy blue or silver. Blossom didn't like cars as much as her green sister, but had to admit they were pretty sweet.

She entered the skyscraper, standing there a little puzzled before locating her source of rescue. A woman was sitting at a reception, headset on her head as she typed away on her computer. Blossom clicked her heels up to her, feeling over exposed and unnecessary drawing attention as she went. A little embarrassed, she flashed the woman a smile and leaned over the counter.

«Hey.» A finger was held up, signing her to wait a few moments for her to finish. She had a name tag labeling 'Johanna Lirikson'. Wetting her lips and tipping her shoes at the floor, she did so. It took a few minutes of staring around and scouting before the woman became available. It was a rather nice and neat place, and it bothered her how her nemesis had such exquisite taste.

«Yes, may I help you?» she said, holding a hand over the mic, flashing her a pearly white smile. The redhead felt her eyebrow twitch at how perfect the Jojo's wanted everything to be, because it couldn't be a coincidence how perfect her hair, skin and teeth were.

«I hope so,» she politely answered before fishing up her working sheet. «I'm looking for...» Scanning down the paper she found what she was looking for. «Section five, seconds floor in the third building?» It felt like Brick had pranked her with all the directions as the woman arched a brow, probably thinking her crazy.

«Excuse me, what?» Her voice confirmed her suspect, and the redhead gritted her teeth. Of course it was a cruel joke. She should never have trusted that trouble maker. Just look at where it had brought her. She was standing in their lobby, looking like a complete fool, actually thinking they would offer her a job. It was hard to swallow the growing lump away, but she eventually managed it and blinked rapidly while waiving her hands.

«I'm sorry, I think I got the wrong place,» the girl muttered as she turned to leave, running straight into a wall of muscles. A blush of betrayal shone in her face as she stared up at the person she least wanted to see on the whole wide world; Mojo Jojo. He was tall, wearing a suit. His hair was black, and chin newly shaved. Despite, she could already see it growing out. His abnormal purple eye color stung at her under his fuzzy eyebrows.

«Blossom Utonium,» his dark voice said, those cold eyes staring her down.

«Mojo Jojo.» Her shoulders stiffened and she straightened her nose upwards, meeting his eyes with pride.

«What brings such a rare guest from a far away past to my company at this moment? To what do I owe the pleasure of the companionship of a powerpuff?» the man said, gripping at his files in his left hand. The man had a smooth, dark tan.

«I must have made a mistake. I thought I was going to start working here today, but as far as I can tell, it's not true,» she handed him the contract and job description, and the man, surprisingly, took them. His purple orbs scanned the article before meeting with her pink ones. Blossom had decided to not use her contacts, because everyone in town knew her anyway.

«No, these are quite real, Ms. Utonium, and I can assure you they are quite right. My son just seems to think he's funny with the location,» the man waved her along as he went for the counter, snorting.

«Johanna, could you please show this woman to the chemist laboratory? She is to work at level seven.» The girl with the brown hair gaped a couple times before she managed to regain herself.

«Mr. Jojo! Yes, of course. Straight away. Follow me.» She motioned for the redhead to follow. Blossom felt quite odd, being saved by her arch nemesis.

«Oh, and Ms. Utonium,» the man said before she turned away. He handed her the file, her name at the top. «The contract is real, so unless you want to own me any money, I suggest you will be on time from now on. Welcome to the company.» He then turned the other way while the brunette was nudging at her to follow, muttering about no time to waste.

Johanna muttered to herself and to someone else at the same time, finishing with 'have a good day'.

«I wasn't sure what you meant with your description earlier on, and I sure didn't know you worked in that department. Honestly I thought you were joking and just tried to get into the company,» the girl giggled.

«Yeah, it also made me quite confused back there,» Blossom said, wanting to choke the living shit out of Brick the next time she saw him. Still the child she remembered from childhood.

«I know, right,» the brunette said and giggled once again. _Annoying_ , the redhead thought.

They rounded corners and found a locked door. She waved at the door before turning on her heal and walking back with a ' _good luck_ '. Blossom stared dumbfound at it a couple of seconds. Now how the hell did she expect her to open a coded door on her first day without any code? Groaning to herself, she opened the file in her hand and found a yellow sticking note on the first page. _9571\. The code changes every third day. Talk with your superior for the heads up. - MJ_

At this point, she was feeling so out of it, it made her stomach twist. Something was up, and she didn't like it at all. Mojo was never nice, it wasn't in his description, and the feeling of being remotely pleasant around him had the redhead seriously question herself. She needed to get her head checked and remind herself who the hell he was. This man had been her enemy her entire life, and the cause of her misery for so many years. So she was not about to forgive him now for such petite actions.

She input the code and was pleased to see the green light lit up, and grabbed the door, swinging it open. Not really sure what she had expected, but it sure wasn't this. The room was colored with several different posts, tables on tables stacked with tools and unfinished experiments. Sitting at one of the chairs with wheels, a redheaded man was tipping a yellow substance into a blue powder. If she guessed the chemicals correct, it would change into a red liquid.

Brick didn't seem to notice as she approached him from the side, peaking over his shoulder. If anything interested her, it was the science behind experiments, and currently he was holding her attention. He mixed it and to her awe, it became green and solid.

«I didn't expect that,» she muttered more to herself than anyone in particular. The man glanced at her, flashing her a bedazzling smile. It would have affected her if it wasn't for who he really was.

«What did you expect?» he asked, removing the plastic glasses off his face.

«Red liquid. Wasn't it a mix of-» He shook his head, quickly catching on to her drift.

«Not a bad thought, however, it wasn't quite that, but something we've been working on to effectively lessen the pollution of our oil.» Blossom nodded. He moved the inscripted bottles over to her, so she could figure out herself.

«Does it work?»

«Haven't really come to the testing part yet. Being only one person makes the progress slow. I've tried assistants, but they're less productive than Butch.» She could really imagine the frustration of that and found herself relating on a personal level. «That's why I bought you up. You're about the only person that has a chance of keeping up with my work. Slightly slower, but better than the average.»

Snorting, Blossom rolled her eyes at him as she sat down on a chair, not thinking much of how close they were. She opened the file and eyed the paper.

«You're five minutes early,» the man stated, watching the clock. «Shit, and I bet money on you being late and forever being stuck in this system due to your debt.» _Evil imp_ , she thought and kept reading down the side, ignoring him. It was about the project and her work for the rest of the year.

«I'm your assistant?» Blossom hesitant said as she kept looking.

«Like I told you,» Brick said, spinning on his chair.

«How much am I going to make?»

«Depends on what you do,» he smirked, eying her up and down. Sighing, she realized it was going to be a long day.

* * *

 **(WARNING: For the love of everything sane, please don't read if you are underage or sensitive to violence, sexual content and bad language. This is rated M for a reason. I have tried to tone it down, but it's still awful and there.)**

Bubbles sighed. She was bored due to lack of company, and hadn't seen anyone since Blossoms leave that morning. Nothing came down on paper either, because she didn't feel any inspiring around her. After the fourth bowl of ice cream, 6th cup of chocolate, marshmallow with icing, seven packs of cookies and a whole season of her favorite series, the blond girl figured out it was time to get out of the apartment and inhale some fresh air.

Dressing up in her favorite jeans, coat, boots and headband, she exited the apartment, locking the door behind her. Still feeling paranoid, she yanked at the handle, making sure it was secured. It didn't budge, making her capable of leaving with her conscience intact.

The blue puff wondered how their siblings were doing. Was Blossom having fun at work? Were she getting along and making friends? Where was Buttercup? Was she safe? Did so do something stupid? Probably, but she was also capable of taking care of herself.

As she reached the elevator doors, they opened and a man stepped out. He had a dark, blue suit and long, shaggy blond hair. She couldn't see his eyes, but a strong jawline. At the sight of the girl, he stopped up for a second and tilted his head up. It didn't make much of a difference to recognize him, and the hesitation only lasted for a second before he stepped out and went to the left. Bubbles glanced at him, trying to place the puzzles in her head together, but couldn't seem to manage it. Shrugging her shoulders, she entered the small room and pressed the first floor button.

She had borrowed her car to Blossom, so taking a walk was the only option. Not a bad one, considering that was what she wanted to. When having a creativity block, taking a walk and breathing some fresh air always helped. She had a small bag over her shoulder, one she always carried around, in case she found a scenario that had to be captured.

The wind was dancing in her hair, sounds of busy cars passing by, eager to get home after a long day of work, the sun setting in the distance, casting shadows over the earth and the smell of dust, exhaust and rain filled her lounges. Walking down the street, she took in her surroundings. It was a fairly large city, but not too big.

Bubbles reached her destination, stepping into the park. She remembered playing there as a child, going on picnics with her friends and just spending time hanging out with different boys on dates. It was a place for good memories. The blond shuffled up to the nearest three, before sitting down, staring at the by passers. Fishing out her sketching book and pencils, she put the box down on the grass, holding a B2 between her fingers, staring at the landscape. Children were rolling in the grass, teens jogging and elders sitting on benches, feeding the bids. She started drawing line for line, shading lightly at first before marking in contours.

Shades moved as she sketched away, and she changed the picture as she went. More people filled it, and before too long, she had drawn half the paper filled with different people. It pleased her, seeing their faces, capturing their movements and happy memories.

A particular jogger caught her attention. He had blond hair and a blue outfit. He wasn't very tall, but reached over her head. Her mouth fell agape and her voice commanded itself.

«Boomer?» The blond man turned, and as she caught a glimpse of his face, she could tell it wasn't him. He looked alike, but it wasn't him. A smile graced her face and she quickly shouted a sorry after him. The man waved before sprinting off. Blossoms words were going to her head, making her paranoid.

The girl packed her things away and placed her chin on her knees, just observing everything. It gave her peace inside, but also stirred some sad, unwanted feelings. They used to come here before the incident. And after it, they had totally quit, gone their own ways, and rarely spoken. Bubbles had tried to keep in contact, but after some time, even she had given up. Once-a-day calls turned into once a weak, then once every week, and before they knew it, several months had passed. Sighing, she sat up, ready to go home. It was already getting very dark, and her sister might be home, waiting for her.

Did she remember to lock the door? Yeah, she believed she had remembered. The blond shuffled along, seeing all the others wrapping it up. The sun was rapidly falling, and before she knew any better, she was stuck in an back alley with a creepy feeling of danger. Speeding up, she reached half way down when a silhouette moved, startling her. The blond girl jumped on the place, quickly turning around to make a run for the exit. It was in vain, because three figures were blocking it.

«Well, well, well,» a voice purred and she swirled to stare at the approaching figure. A tall man with sunglasses said, dark hair and pale skin. She recognized him.

«Ace?» Bubbles asked, turning fully toward him. The girl wasn't sure how to fell after finding out about him stealing her sisters money and never answering the door. She had tried several times to contact him, but he either wasn't home, or didn't bother to answer. He moved his shades down on the bridge of his nose and glanced over them at her before flashing her a smile.

«Ah, you're the sister of Buttercup, aren't you?» he commented.

«Bubbles, yes,» she smiled at him. «Haven't you been home lately? I've been banging on your door, but you never answer.» The figures behind her chuckles, and Bubbles swallows. She was surrounded, and it looked like trouble.

«Yes. I've been taking care of some stuff around.» He snickered. His friends joined in. «But again, I'm being so rude. Let me introduce you to the boys. This is Snake,» he pointed his thumb over his shoulder at a taller kid. He had a long nose and black hair down his shoulders. A hat pointing backwards on his head, jeans, a tank top and sweatbands. His snickers were white. It was a real contrast to the dress wearing Ace.

«The kid on your left is Grubber,» Ace pointed and she looked. This one had enormous eyes and bunny teeth sticking out. He had a bowl cut and sweat pants. For some odd and unknown reason, the kid didn't wear shoes.

«That's Lil' Arturo to his left.» She moved her gaze and stared at a small, skinny kid with hair covering the right side of his face. He had a v-necked shirt and black jeans. He snorted at her.

«And then there's Big Billy.» This one had orange, long hair and was huge both ways. He had a green sports shirt, saying 'Nr. 6'. He opened his mouth and said hey to her, showing a mysterious row of white teeth.

«Hey, guys,» Bubbles waved, laughing nervously. They were too close for her liking, but being the polite girl she was, the blond didn't voice her discomfort. «Ace, did you steal money from Buttercup?» Nervousness had her lock her fingers together in a childish manner. It seemed to calm her down. The man gave her a look of shock and blinked rapidly.

«Me? Steal from BC? I would never!» Despite being gullible and naive, she knew when someone tried to play her, and this was it. The boys were laughing with him, and as they closed in, Bubbles had a choice to make. She could wait and see what they wanted, hoping for them to just leave her alone, or make a run for it, hoping to get away. At worst, she could use her powers, but Bubbles really hoped it wouldn't come down to that. Blossom would be so furious.

«You know, you really are a beauty, Bubbles,» the sly voice said. It felt like a punch to the gut, making ice claws wedge themselves down her back. An old habit kicked in, and she found herself round house kicking the big guy named Billy, before smacking the next one across the head, face-planting him into the concrete.

«What the hell,» the kid with hair in front of his face gasped, and she punched him in the gutter, knocking him out cold.

«Sshe's crazy,» Snake turned his grin upside down and stared wide eyed.

«My green gang! You bitch,» Ace charged and Bubbles looked at him over her shoulder. Her eyes were freezing cold and she stood strong, head bowed forward. It made him stop, paralyzed with fear. This wasn't the girl from across the hall, neither the one he had stumbled upon in his territory. This girl wasn't ordinary, nor human. In a moment of morbid, a grin sparked on his face. Interesting.

«So it's all true? The blood thirst, killer instinct and those sexy, cold eyes.» The man licked his lips, making the blond girls hair stand on ends. Her redheaded sister wasn't going to be happy, but she would see it as self defense. Buttercup had been right all along. This guy was dangerous. «Snake,» the man said, and the blond watched as the sly kid melted into the asphalt and disappeared. Narrowing her eyes, she stared, trying to figure out where he had went.

«Looking for ssssomeone?» the voice whispered in her ear, and felt something sting her arm. She waved around to get ride of him, a laugh pulled her back and suddenly, Ace was straight in front of her. She couldn't see clearly, things started to move around her and something had hit her face. Coughing, she blinked several times to try to gain her focus. What had happened? Why couldn't she make anything out of the world? The sharp pain she had felt hadn't touched a large area, and was more like a sting. They had drugged her, realization hit her as she understood why her chin was pushed inwards. She was lying on the ground, and the coldness only made her realize how numb her body had become.

«Oh, she truly is nice. Would be a shame to just hand her over to Mr. Jojo straight away. The rest of the boys are out cold, but we can have our fun.» She heard them snicker, the voices distant and echoing around, making her head hurt. Mr. Jojo? But which one? Was it Mojo? Brick? Butch? Maybe even Boomer? The cold air touched the skin on her thighs, and Bubbles panicked. They were undressing her.

«St...op...He...Hel...p,» her voice groaned and she couldn't breath, struggling to even move around. All her muscles ached as she curled up, trying to shield herself from those nasty hands. She could feel them everywhere, and steamy tears fell on her cold cheek. _Buttercup, Blossom! Please!_

«D..Don..n't... P..Plea...ease...stop...th...th...thi...s...» Her body sobbed, a shiver rolling down her body, and she gasped as a finger found her rear end. «St..stop,» she sobbed, trying to kick after them. The boys laughed at her pitiful try. A scream escaped her lips as she felt her underwear being removed. No, no, no, her insides were screaming. It was terrifying, being so volnerable and exposed. There was nothing she could do, but witness the horrible outcome. Bubbles had seen what rape had done to people, and it wasn't something anyone should experience.

«S..stop,» she shuddered, sobbing and trying to get a grip on reality. Everything was still spinning, making her dizzy and disoriented.

«Common, love, I promise it wont hurt,» the voice of Ace echoed in her head. «Not that much, at least,» they laughed. Hands forced her feet apart, and Bubbles stared into those grinning faces, lying on the ground. Even after the tragic incident, Bubbles only felt sorrow in her heart. She would lock herself up, morn in her own, silent way. Blossom had her way of burying her head into work, so it wouldn't get time for feelings, and Buttercup had taken a more violent, unpleasant path. This wasn't like that. At the ground, staring up into those evil faces, she wished them hurt, as they were hurting her.

Bubbles screamed as she felt a pain between her legs. Holy pancakes, what was he using? It felt like her insides were torn apart with every slight movement. Ace had tricked her and was now hurting her in a way that could never be undone, and the blond found herself wishing someone dead, for the first time in her life.

Thinking the pain would subside as time went by, she sure were fooling herself. It only increased, but not only that; she could see clearly. Not very, but enough to make out lines and marks. The colors weren't blurred any more, and the concrete upon her back was hard and cold. She could feel it. Bubbles understood what it meant. The drug was wearing off.

«Your turn,» Ace said, and mounted off her. The pain was still throbbing through her body, and as Snake was unbuttoning his belt, she glanced up and got a sight of what was waiting. Furious, she felt the flame inside her grow. _Do it_ , a soundless voice whispered in her ear, and she stared to her left, straight into the face of a red skinned man with dark hair. It was Him. _Go on, dearie,_ the dreamy voice was weirdly pleasant compared to the boys. _Protect yourself, before there isn't anything left to save._ With his words, she didn't need any more encouraging.

«Don't,» her muscles twitched before moving sludgy. «You.» She rolled over on her stomach, pushing herself off the world. «Dare.» Her knees were wiggling as she stood up, and Ace kicked her down on the ground, pushing her chin into the surface. It scratched up the skin and she felt the warm blood dripping down her cheek. «Touch me,» Bubbles growled and whirled around, sending a ball of blue light right for Snakes face. The man gaped as the energy hit him, and melted his head straight off. Blood splattered the walls and street as the body fell backwards and hit the ground with a hollow _thud_.

«What the hell?» Ace shouted, staring at his former friend. He didn't get any time to recover as the blond charged him, tackling him to the ground. With her fist swinging, she pounded at the man. Coloring her knuckles and surroundings red, she kept hitting until his face was so swollen she couldn't recognize him.

«Don't you dare touch me, don't you dare touch me, don't you dare touch me,» the girl ranted screaming, each word drawing from anger, and slowly became unsteady sobs of sadness. Her fists lost their will, and she barely touched him in her last slaps before giving completely up. The man groaned in pain and she scrambled away, staring at her blood stained hands. Bubbles couldn't believe what she had done. Snake was dead, and Ace dying. The rest seemed to be knocked out cold, but she couldn't tell if they were breathing.

Eyes wide, the blond stared from body to body before scrambling to her feet and taking off as fast her feet allowed her. She had used her powers to kill someone. No matter what they had done, it didn't give her the right to take someones life away from them. Her once pure heart was aching as darkness started to spread.

Her breath hurt in her chest, and all of her body was aching, but she kept going. Pushing the limit as much as she could, the blond didn't stop until she was inside and at the elevator, almost crashing with it. Pushing it three, four, five times and tripping where she stood, the girl kept glancing over her shoulder. She was afraid Ace would regain himself and come after her, dragging her fragile body back into the dark alley. It didn't take long before she recognized the pattern of hyperventilating. If she couldn't calm herself down, she was going to faint, and who knew what would happen to her them.

 _Control it. They can't hurt me any more, I'm almost home. Stare at the light, focus on it. It's almost here_ , Bubbles thought as the light hit the first floor, and the doors came apart. A dark haired man stepped out, making the blond jump backwards and push herself up against the wall, terrified. He gave her a puzzled look before went along with his own business. Quickly entering the small box, she pushed the button several times, as if it would go faster that way. It felt like an eternity as it went upwards to eight floor, and she ran out and up to 819. scrambling her keys, she hurried inside and locked the door behind her, falling to the floor.

Bubbles cried. She screamed with all negative emotions filling her, and just listening to her own, dying innocence, she felt her heart breaking with every tone. The feeling of those disgusting acts was still over her, and she made a sprint for the bathroom. Nobody was home, and that suited her best. The blue puff threw her clothes off, before staring into the mirror. Bruises, cuts and blood covered most of her, even her face. When had she gotten the black eye and bruised lip? She couldn't remember, and it looked awfully swollen. A new set of fresh tears rolled down her cheek. So filthy.

The girl roared at the image and turned the running water on, steaming her body. It burned on her skin, and she rubbed it with a cloth, trying to wash away the actions of the green gang. That, could never be undone, and the girl cried as she cleaned herself as best she could. Two hours later, when she stepped out, there wasn't a single mark left on her body but for a couple of color differences. When they were younger, one of the perks of having super powers were healing, and it had come in handy several times after their fights with the boys. Luckily, her sisters would never know. Buttercup would surely kill them herself, and Blossom would drag her to the police. Bubbles wanted neither, and most of all wished to forget everything.

Dressing up in pajamas, she dried her hair in a blue towel and marched barefoot around, taking in the clean apartment. Out of habit, she wandered in to the kitchen and opened the fridge. It stored so many delicious things, but she couldn't make herself touch any of it. Her stomach twisted in despair, and her head agreed. There was no way it would go down successfully right now.

Wandering back into the living room, she ended up at her painting. It had just been a day, and so much had changed. In just a day, she had become a killer and was ruined. A clump in her throat made her swallow. This picture. There wasn't any surprise it didn't sell. It was unrealistically happy. Nobody wanted that, because they couldn't relate to it.

«Fake,» she muttered to herself, tasting the word. Grabbing her stuff, she dotted opp dark blue, black and gray. Dipping the brush in the liquid, she gave the picture one last, long look before making up her mind. The first, dark mark lands on the painting, and just like to her, the damage is done. The girl paints, changing it by adding new patterns, then new colors, and not before long, she finds herself staring at the grotesque scene of a girl, slaughtering the green gang, letting the bright colors from the original image shine slightly through. It made the horrific action into a salvation. She felt bad about the satisfaction the picture gave her, and the voicing of her next words.

«It should have gone down like that. They deserve to die, all of them.»

* * *

Buttercup couldn't sleep at all. Her every thought was filled up with annoyance over losing her job, the worst part was Butch being a huge piece of it, and thinking about that retard gave her a headache. Tossing and turning in her bed for an hour, she quickly figured out it wasn't going to work. The digital clock on her night desk was 2:45, and she heavily sighed. It was weird not looking forward to her work, or falling asleep. For the last three years, that had been the only thing she had done. Unemployed, and all thanks to that good for nothing ruff.

Growling and tossing the sheets aside, she leaves the comfortable bed and throws a couple of black jeans on, together with a green top. Her blond sister was snoring softly on her side, not registering her leave.

Blossom was sleeping on the sofa with a blanket over her, and despite her light breaths, Buttercup had years and years of training of escaping unseen under her radar. Grabbing two cans of Mountain Dew, the green girl jumped into her snickers and took her leather jacket with her, locking the door with a soft click.

As if not having a job wasn't hard enough on her, that butt licking shit Ace had stolen all of her savings. To say the least, the green puff was pissed. Tapping her foot while waiting for the blasted elevator, Buttercup hisses as it opens, stepping inside. As soon as it reaches the bottom, and opens up, she makes a run for her car. Her good stamina allowed her to sprint all the way without feeling weary. Turning the engine on, the girl knew exactly where to go to blow off some steam.

As a kid, Buttercup had a terrible temper, and at times, powers difficult to control. There were only a hand full of people that could calm her down, and one cause of action. She had to release the emotions, before they piled up and exploded.

Several places had been ruined over her time, and there was only one place that wouldn't let itself break under her raw powers. Driving for over an hour, it being easy in the middle of the night with nobody blocking the road and all the lights on yellow telling her to think herself. Others from a car and some shadows here and there, it was empty on the streets. The girl found herself outside town, several miles away from her warm bed. Parking it at the side of the road, she started climbing up the sleeping mountain.

It had been so long since she had last been there, but the green puff knew exactly where to go, where the mountain bouldered, crocked and caved underneath her feet. The nostalgia filled the lonesome traveler, and after a few more steps, the girl started jogging. Her jogging turned into running, and sprinted up the tall monument, even in the dark without any chance of seeing, for the first time in a long time, Buttercup felt free. All her worries had left her mind, and the only thing she felt, was the fresh air in her lounges, her muscles working and a light feeling.

Turning left and right, she found the thing she sought out. Panting and falling down to a jogging again, Buttercup went up to a hole. It wasn't round and perfect like those in movies, but went roughly up and down. Climbing down the hole, she found herself recognizing all the different sizes of pattern. A couple of years back, when she had been around seven years old, Buttercup had scolded her about being out late, skipping school, and her homework on one day. One thing lead to the other, and they had fought furiously, before the green puff had flown away. Rampaging through a couple of landscape, taking her anger and frustration out on a couple of sorry trees and stones, she had run into the thing that could take all her anger, and still – sometimes – walk away. Butch was a huge brat, always pulling her hair and inventing new ways of bothering her. As the greens always does, they started fighting. Their fight quickly escalated, and they had been pushed out of town, and as anger drove the children, they had dug through the earth, trying to cause the other pain in the process, creating the uneven path she was now walking.

They had later found it the mountain was an old, inactive volcano, and it burned their skin as they had plunged into it, both gasping from the surprise. The room under the ground, wasn't very large, but big enough for the raging superhuman's. After that, they had both went there to train. It had been hell at first, fighting over whom had the right of the beautiful place, but both were too stubborn to hand it over. Buttercup didn't know if he did it on purpose just to cross her, so she had tried the silent treatment. If it was something they had in common, it was that neither couldn't stand being ignored. He had jumped her, and they had fought until they could barely breath and decided to go home, snorting like pigs. It happened several times over the years, and a couple of months before everything fell apart, Buttercup could almost stand being around Butch. The called it fighting instead of sparing with; that would indicate they were on the same team and working together toward the same goal, and there was no way in hell that was happening. After that, Buttercup did everything in her powers to avoid the place, and Butch, cursing herself for thinking she could even stand being in the same room as him.

The hole was deep, but she eventually found the underground den, the lava still running through it like a paradise in hell. So many hours, used for training, solitary and reality escaping.

Out of habit, she went to the left side. It had been hers while things had been rocky between her and the ruff. The boy being who he was, had always tested the limits, pushing it further and further, and as they grew tolerant to each others company, the invisible line washed out. Now, it was back for her, and she could still see where she had drawn it the first day. Their paths didn't mean anything to him, and he had made it very clearly last night when she was fired from her job. Te neanderthal. How dared he?

Anger had always been the drift of Buttercup, and she released it on one of the hot rocks. The green girl punched it as hard she could, quickly sending in a left hook. The burning sensation sent shivers down her spine. She knew it all too well, and it sent her into a rampage. She tried to break it after a few frustrated hits, and halted on her ground, staring at her hands. They were red, dirty and bloody. Shaking, she took a heavy breath, focusing. It was a shock, realizing she couldn't activate her powers.

«What the hell?» the girl stared at her palms, waiting for them to shine radioactivly. The green glow she knew better than herself was nowhere to be seen. No matter how hard she tried or concentrated – being Buttercup it didn't last long – she couldn't do it. Shaking them furiously, she tried every movement to get them going. Nothing worked.

«This, this can't be,» the brunette screams, hoping it would do something. Drawing a breath, she opens her eyes and stared down, feeling fear rising inside. Without her powers, she was nothing. Having raw strength beyond anyones believes was her thing. It was who she was. Her head was spinning, and she drew quick breaths, trying to control the frustration.

«I know there is chemical-X in my system, and if this doesn't work, I'll have to take it a step further,» she mutters to herself, and made up her mind right there and then. Thinking was Blossoms thing, and hers was taking action. Throwing herself for the lava, Buttercup squeezes her eyes shut, believing it was the only way to kick start her powers again. Something grabbed the back of her jacket, yanking her backwards and on the ground.

«Now, dearie. That's no pretty way to go. I assure you, there won't be an open casket,» a voice giggles, and snarling, she pushes herself up from the ground. It was hot, like the air. Just being inside the cave had her sweating. Or was it the workout? She didn't know, could't tell.

«I'm a powerpuff. Something as silly as lava can't hurt me,» the green girl spat at Him, the man sitting on a rock, finding his fingers rather interesting. His red skin and black hair was as gelled as ever, holding it down and pointing at his chin. The black outfit served him well, and if the man had a hobby besides torturing people, it would be as a lawyer. Buttercup could imagine Him standing in front of his jury, convincing them with his flirting voice that his client was the right choice. It suited him well.

«That is very much true, if you indeed are one,» the man commented, his signature smirk turned upside down. He looked rather displeased with something.

«What do you mean if I'm one? What kind of a stupid assumption is that?» Buttercup folded her arms over her chest, leaning on one foot.

«It means you've temporary lost your powers. If you dive into that lava right now, you will die.» The man rose an eyebrow her way, and the split second she couldn't breath, new found anger rose in her. Stomping up to him, she took a hold of his collar. Even without her powers, Buttercup didn't fear the devil, and wouldn't think twice about spitting him in the face.

«What the hell have you done to me? I had no problems yesterday when you fucking crashed my car and impaled me.» The devil giggled, making her growl with frustration.

«You did that to yourself, remember? I didn't make you drive off the road to save me. Rather ironic, don't you think. Poetic,» the man made an imaginary rainbow with his hands before laughing a dark, chilling tone.

«I should have hit you with my car, but that would leave an ugly dent you're not worth,» The brunette snarled before punching the devil. He was annoying her, and it was time to prove him wrong. As her fist connected, she heard something crack. It wasn't the man's chin, because his smirk was still planted. After blinking a couple of times, not believing what she saw, her hand started hurting. Cursing, she let him go and held the would to her chest. As if it made any difference.

«What the hell have you done to me?» The banshee screeched in shock, real shock setting in. Her mind went blank, and she could only watch as an uneasy, chilly feeling filled her whole being, paralyzing her in place.

«You're not listening, dearie,» Him said, face straight. He didn't seem to enjoy himself any more, and good was that. If he had gloated over her pain, she would be forced to try her luck out with her other hand and his face. Maybe even her knee versus his croatch. «I haven't done anything to you.» It didn't last long as she glared.

«Bullshit! Everything was fine until you showed up out of no where, Butch buying up Izis backside, getting me fired from that job. No matter what this is, it's your fault. You're always involved in these sort of things. I ought to kick your ass for it!» The man approached her, and for the second time in a short period of time, he crouched down to her level. The green puff hissed at him.

«You can do that when you get better. At this moment, you're in no condition to make any threats anywhere, dearie,» he muttered and moved his hand over her hand, pulling it back before she could bite him. The pain subsided and she stared at it, before moving it slowly. As good as new.

«What do you want?» she said, staring up at him. The man had done nothing that indicated he wanted to kill her, other than make her turn off the road. It was enough to convince her that he wasn't trusthworthy, even if he did repair her car, and her hand after she had tried to smash his face.

«I want the same as last night, and I will keep returning every day until you accept my proposal. In your current condition, I was hoping you would see things clearer.»

«No way in hell, Him. You're trouble, and I bet money on this being your work. I have no idea how you've managed to do it, but I will find it out,» the puff snorted, flashing her teeth like a stray dog. Him sighed.

«As you wish, I take your bet. Just remember, you aren't a powerpuff any more. If you receive a deadly blow in any form, you will die. Good luck, dearie.» As red smoke surrounded him, the devil disappeared, planting the image of his almost sorry face inside her head. It said he wanted to help, but only if she accepted. Yeah, right. There was no way any of that could happen. Not even in an alternative universe.

Lying down on the hot floor, she stared up into the ceiling. The only source of light was the lava, and that suited her just fine. It didn't light up much, but enough for her to feel relaxed. She was considering going home and jump into her bed after a long, cold shower, but being there and left alone wasn't so bad. Just a few more minutes, she told herself. Then she would be back on the road and home.

«What are you doing?» a voice said as she heard footsteps approach, and she rolled on the side, away from the bother. No way in hell. What was the chance of this happening? She cursed herself. She should have left while her mood had only been ruined by Him.

«Leave me alone,» Buttercup growled, listening to the steps. They didn't falter or slow down until he was straight at her side. Movements were heard, and she could tell the person was sitting down.

«Na, I like it here. Reminds me of the old days.»

«As I said. Leave me the fuck alone, Butch. I'm not in the mood.»

«Man,» he groaned. «You're never in the mood, anyway. What if I don't? You gonna make me?»

«Hell yeah,» she heard herself say, immediately regretting it. It wasn't like she didn't believe Him that her powers were gone, but facts remained that she had broken her arm in a try to punch him. It had never happened before. Hurling himself up, and dragging her along in the process, the green ruff spun her around to look at him, falling into a fighting stance.

«Very well. Bring it on, bitch,» he said monotone, his game face on. Her resting bitch face returned and the flame inside her lit up. There was no way she was going to back down. Powers or not, it wasn't in her agenda to ever back down from a challenge. Bending her knees and lifting her hands up in front of her face, her own expression became neutral. Fighting was one of the few things she took serious.

They were both impatient gladiators, and a split second later, they collided. The girl sent a kick flying to his face, and he guarded it, grabbing at her ankle and threw a punch straight for her chest. She barely got her hands up in defense, as the hit landed, sending her flying into the wall. It drew the breath out of her, and everything became blurry. Coughing hard, she gulped like a fish on land, trying to breath. It hurt. Probably a couple of fractured rib-bones, together with both her hands, making her exhale sharply. _It couldn't be_ , her voice screamed inside her head. Him had been right. She didn't have any powers at all. How was that possible?

«It's just a punch, get the hell back up,» the man said, shuffling toward her. His loose training pants in gray moved as he went, and he threw his leather jacket to the side. He had another t-shirt on. It was one of the COD games, but her vision failed her to tell which one. Holding her hands up against her breast, she bowed forward, trying to ease the pain. Every movement was a drag and hurt, making her feel tears sting at the corners of her eyes. No way in hell was she going to cry in front of Butch fucking Jojo.

«I said,» he gripped at her hair and pulled her up. «Get the hell ba-» he cut his own sentence, staring her straight in the face. His brows flew up, and the green girl could only curse herself as a teardrop fell down her cheek. «What the hell, butters. Don't tell me you've gone soft,» he let her go and she _oofed_ as the hard landing added to her already hurting body.

«You piece of shit, that fucking hurt,» she growled, wiping away the tears on her jacket. It was dusty, but she didn't care. Scratching the back of his neck, the green eyed boy sat down. _They really had to stop that_ , she growled inside her head.

«What the hell happened to you?» he muttered, rising an eyebrow. It wasn't like he asked because he cared, but more because he was curious. Why was Buttercup like this? What had happened?

«You tell me,» she growled, before moving her legs, standing up and moving her hands down to her sides with enormous breaths to not faint. The pain consumed her body and she stumbled. The man caught her out of reflex, and she moved away from him, sending him one hell of a killer look.

«Don't you fucking touch me,» she growled and locked her eyes, making sure he understood.

«Whatever. You can fall the next time, bitch,» he said, rolling his eyes. Her body was shaking, and she started breathing hard, fast. It really hurt, and the girl winched. Better get back while she still could, she determined and went for the tunnel. If Butch wanted her dead, he would have already done it, so turning her back to him wasn't something she feared. She never had. Neither were ones to cast surprise attacks. They preferred fights face to face, and it gave the both of them a thrill if the enemy was strong and prepared.

«What are you doing?» Butch said, and to her annoyance, she heard him follow her. Great. Just great.

«I'm going home,» she said, dodging the first stone, feet balancing unsteadily upward. He laughed at her movements, and the green girl threw him an ugly look over her shoulder. It didn't make him stop, and he just flashed her a satisfied smile. Pushing her buttons again.

«Stop following me,» she growled when they had gone half the way up, cold air seeping around her, somehow making the pain bearable.

«I'm not,» he answered humorous. Snorting, she felt everything around her move. Her body was heavy, and suddenly her foot and head misjudged where the ground was, and she felt herself diving forward. Butch caught her, lifting her up into his arms. She would have hit him, if it wasn't for the fact that both her arms were broken.

«Put me the fuck down.» His laughter rolled as he lifted them up into the air and flew out of the tight space. «Put me the fuck down, Butch! This isn't funny!» She screeched in his ear.

«Sure it is. You're actually acting like a girl, Butterfly,» he laughed as they stared down at the sun. Damn, when had it come up, Buttercup wondered as she stared at it hovering over Townsville in the distance. His hand grabbed around her swollen arm, and she let out a yelp, both from the abnormal touch, and the pain shooting up her shoulder.

«Broken,» he muttered to himself before checking the other, against her will and death treats. When he went in for feeling her ribs, she didn't care for her broken hands, and elbowed him in the face with all she had.

«Ouch, what the hell, I'm just trying to hel- that didn't hurt at all. Are you even trying?» His face was a question mark as they flew toward the city. She growled at him, wishing stares could kill. The man chuckled as she kept threatening him, knowing fully that there wasn't anything she could do. They landed at the hospital, the green puff still screaming in his ear about letting her down and how she didn't need his help. In their short trip, she had threatened him over a dozen times, told him she would rather die than being so close over four times, and groaned about a billion.

«Yeah, yeah,» he waved her off as they went up to the counter. The woman smiled brightly at them, her blond hair in a bundle.

«Hey, can I help you guys?»

«Yeah, she's broken both her arms and a couple of rib-bones. Do you think you could take care of it?» flashing his million dollar smile, the woman nodded her head, woozing after him. Buttercup felt awkward starting from one to the other before trying to push away from him again, as she had done the entire flight, not caring if she fell straight to the ground. He had a strong grip, and didn't let her down before she hit the bed. He patted her head, and she tried to bite his fingers.

«What the hell, Butch? You first get me fired from my job and now you're taking me to the hospital? You're mental!» The boy faked being hurt, giving her a pouting look.

«Butters! You hurt my feelings.»

«You don't have feelings,» she growled as a doctor came up to her bed, asking what the problem was. Her face changed instantly into one of calm and collected.

«She's broken both her arms and a coupe of ribs,» Butch repeats once again.

«Oh, dear. How did that come to happen?» the older man asked, his white coat covering his shoulders and down to his knees. They glanced at each other, Butch trying to hide a smile as she glared. The doctor stared from one to the other.

«He assaulted me,» twitching in pain, the green girl gasped for air and the doctor called for a nurse. She came running with a needle. It's not going to work, Buttercup thought. My skin is designed to withstand even diamond cutters. She felt even more dizzy as the needle broke her skin and the nurse injected the clear liquid. Bloody hell. She really was powerless.

«Get some sleep, Butters,» Butches voice was dreamy and the world around her started dissolving. «You look like crap. I have work for you when you wake up.»

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Thoughts? Want to read more? Leave a review! They make me encouraged to write more, faster.

Gigiright: Thanks for the review! I've planed a lot, and it's going to be quite interesting, I hope.

Vampirelover555: Thanks for the encourage and leaving a review! Hope the rest fell in taste.

FangirlingIsMyHobby: Thanks for those nice words. They're really inspiring me to write and update faster. I use the « instead of '' because I find it neater. Hope you liked this one, too.

Miss Leidi: Thank you! It's nice to receive reviews, and be encouraged like this. I hope this chapter was as fun to read as it was for me to write.

FFluvr: Thank you! I also enjoy the greens, and the reds. It was nice of you to leave a review, and I hope this chapter pleased you the same way it did me.

OLOLOLOLO: Thanks, I hope this chapter lived up to your expectations.

I'm aware my story says 7 reviews, but I can't seem to find the seventh. I apologize in advance. If it pops up later, I will answer it then.

Thanks to gigiright, cococandy21, FangirlingIsMyHobby and Chu545 for following this story so fast after it's release. Special thanks to _FangirlingIsMyHobby_ for adding it to your favorites. (Fangirling is also my hobby, hihi.)

And to all you silent readers out there: You're all awesome! Hope you enjoyed and welcome again.

I will try to update once a week, maybe even faster if something insane happens. Have a pleasant day!


	3. Chapter 3

_(A/N) So many reviews, followers and favorites! That asks for a celebration, and here it is! I was planing on posting it on Saturday, but I will update sooner seeing so much happened! Thank you all for caring so much about my writing and those kind words. It means a lot to me. Enjoy._

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Chapter 3. I will huff, puff and ruff

It was late in the day when Blossom received a call from the hospital. She and Brick had been in a heated discussion of the danger and risks they were going to take in the experimenting. It hadn't come as a surprise when he wanted to test it straight away, and she rose up against him, glaring. Either side wanted to be right, and the calm, once relevant argument had turned into insults on a whole new level. Highschool brainless bickering at best.

«You unsophisticated, overused cliché of an excuse!» the redhead had snarled, and the boy growled angry at her.

«Says miss goodiegoodie two shoes, too ignorant and stiff to let anything but a butt plug inside. Hope it's made of wood and gives you spliters.»

«How dare you!» the girl gasped, face flashing a warning crimson. Her hand had grabbed after something to hurl at him, hopefully something less than expensive she could replace. He dared her with a deep look and smirk. At the last second – the girl actually going to do it – her phone rang. It was one of the standard tones, seeing she didn't really have any time to roam around on the device and try out it's functions.

«Yes?» The redhead used her calmest, happiest tone, completely changing from the devilish minx, but it didn't prevent her from sending him dangerous daggers with her pink orbs. She was so going to hurt whatever it was she was holding when hanging up.

«Ms. Blossom Utonium?» a woman said in the other end.

«Speaking.»

«This is Twonsville hospital calling. Your sister came in her earlier today with severe internal and exterior injuries. She's currently in surgery, one that has lasted for five hours, and it seems it is almost over. You are her emergency contact. Do you wish to come over here and visit your sister?» Dry in her mouth, she licked her lips, feeling the words distant. Who? Was it Buttercup? Or Bubbles? Oh, god. What could possibly have happened?

«What, what's do you mean, what's going on? Which one of my sisters?» she croaks like a frog, feeling weak in her knees. Making a quick decision, she sits down on the closest chair, staring at the periodic table hanging on the wall. She knew every atom and number by heart.

«You have more than one? My apologies,» the voice answered from the phone and she can hear her clicking at something in the other end. Maybe a computer. «Let's see,» the woman mutters, shifting around. «It's Buttercup.»

Groaning she closes her eyes shut, placing her forehead in her palm. It was like nothing had ever changed. She was still looking after her sister, and her green sibling still got herself injured. Something must have really happened if she went to the hospital. Buttercup hated everything about it, always complained about how boring it was and how it smelled funny.

«I'll be right there,» she mutters before hanging up, thanking the lady in the other end. Sighing her eyes glances at the clock. «When are we done working for today?» she asks, not wanting to meet those sharp crimson ones.

«Why the rush?» he asked, arching a brow.

«It's not like we've been productive any way. We've just been bickering for the last hour. It's a total waste of time, so I'm leaving.» She opened her lab coat and hung it back in place on the wall, extracting her thins together. With their moving here and there for the different processes, she had left some of her stuff all over the place.

«I'm your superior, and I own you. If I say we're not done, we're not done.» His words felt like venom and she sent him a furious glare over her shoulder. If her laser eyes were working, he would have a pretty hole in his head, or two to be exact.

«My sister is in the hospital,» Blossom stormed up to him, flames in her eyes. No matter how long they stayed apart, or what happened, nothing could change the fact, and the redhead would always be there for them. No matter the cost. «I don't care what it states in the contract. I need to get to the hospital and check on her. I will do anything.» Over the years of seeing each other at school, Blossom had learned to read Bricks micro expressions. There weren't many, but the few he owned, she had learned to understand and catch on to. The muscles in his right raw tightened, and she knew he was swallowing. He turned away from her.

«You have an hour.» The man didn't have to ask her twice as she stormed to the door, everything in hand, keys ready to unlock the car when she got so far.

«Thank you,» the redhead turned and looked at his back, before exiting. She could faintly remember the way out, and saw no one on the way. It was quiet all around her, and Johanna wasn't in at the counter when she recognized it. She must have gone home for the day. Stupid Brick, making up impossible working hours. This is what stupidity gave her, she groaned, cursing her own sloppiness.

It wasn't as she didn't know why it had ended up like this, but more the frustrating reason for why she had been so careless the day she had signed that damn contract. It had been the anniversary of the cursed incident. Six years ago, and the pain had been just as unbearable as then. Brick knew, and that son of a bitch did it on purpose, knowing she would have her guard down at that moment.

Wondering what could have caused such harm to her sister, she exited the building with wrinkled eyebrows. It was a real pain, the girl thought while groaning for the umpteenth time that day. Brick had been really difficult, and it seemed like they were working against each other, draining her off the good sleep she had managed to gain close to her sisters. If she was positive and said yes, he would draw back and tell her that wouldn't do, and they had to go about it the other way. It quickly grew old, and once she did not agreed to him and suggesting her own methode, he had told her that wasn't good enough and she had to come up with something better and contribute more. Her having enough of his laborious personality was one of the reasons things almost turned ugly.

It was good being out of that place, she noticed as she started the engine of Bubbles blue car and slowly reversed out of the parking spot and zipped away. The hospital was on the other side of the town, so she couldn't stay for long before the time limit given to her was out. She had until 6:30 to return. Wasting no time, she took the quickest paths she knew and for a split second, she saw a baby blue jacked flicker. Glancing in the rare mirror, she wasn't sure if it was her sister, but it could be. Her hair was blond, but not in the signature pigtails, instead a headband holding it down. If she could guess right, and that was her sister, she was headed toward the Townsville park. A soft smile fell on her lips. Good. Bubbles needed to get out and not mourn away. It was dangerous, and mentally damaging.

Reaching the white building of her target, she parked close to the entrance, locking the car after her. Clicking her heels up to the woman behind the computer, she smiled careful.

«I'm here to see my sister.»

«Name?» the brown, short haired woman asked, staring at her over her glasses. She had a double chin and a mouth that went downwards. This woman had probably seen some difficult things in her life.

«Buttercup Utonium.»

«Blossom, right?» someone behind her spoke up, and she turned and stared at a young, Asian woman. Her black hair was gathered in a ponytail and she had a bright smile. The nurse caught on to her confused look, and laughed a warm laughter. «I got this, Tiana,» the Asian nodded and gestured for the redhead to follow.

«I talked to you on the phone. Buttercup just came out of surgery. Everything went perfect, and the doctor expect her to be completely healthy again in two months.» Blossom nodded and cleared her throat.

«What happened to her?» she asked, knowing this woman would tell her more than the green puff herself. Whenever Buttercup came home with bruises and wounds, she never revealed what had caused it. At first, it had bothered her a great deal, but they always quickly healed up, and it seemed to clam her sister down. She didn't explode as often as before, or was remotely as angry.

«I have no idea. A man carried her inside here, and she accused him of being the cause.» She lowered her voice. «Seeing it was him, it's quite possible, then again, he paid for her bills.»

«What?» Blossom rose an eyebrow. Who the hell would do such a thing? «Who?»

«I can't tell you,» the girl glanced nervously around. «Mr. Jojo wouldn't be happy if I did.»

«Mojo Jojo did this?» Blossom frowned and the girl shushed, telling her to keep it down. They reached the door. It said 305. the corridor was quiet. A nurse was rolling fresh towels, change of sheets and other aids on a cart, pausing here and there to assist the ones with what they needed, and change the old and used rags into clean ones.

«It wasn't Mojo, but his son. I can't tell you more.» And she didn't have to. The red haired girl knew exactly who was capable of hurting her sister like that. He paid for her bills? She didn't like it. He and his brothers were up to something, and she was going to find out what it was before something severe happened.

«I understand. Thank you for your help.» The woman gave her a forced, sad smile before nodding her head and went back to work. Taking a deep breathe, she grabbed the handle and opened the door. It moved out of her reach and Blossom stared into two green eyes.

«And don't fucking ever come back!» she heard her sister scream from the inside, and the corner of Butchs lips turned upwards as he locked eyes with the newly arrived sister.

«Pinky,» he greeted, going past her. Holding her tongue, she watched him leave before walking into the room, head filled with questions.

«I told you to not come back,» her sister growled and a smile fell on her face as she closed the door and went up to her bed. «Blossom. Uh, sorry. It was meant for the shithead or any of the doctors. They have been peaking in now and then, bringing different stuff.»

Nodding her head, she stared at the empty plastic cups and papers from the different junk food stores around town. It pained her heart to see her sister like that, plastered hands in a stiffness across her body. She had a bandage around her torso, but generally looked alright. Usually when she and Butch headbutted, her face would be badly swollen, too.

«Want to tell me what happened?» The green girls smile faltered as she glanced around. Something was off, and the redhead didn't like it. Predictable and constant was something she held dear, and change of nature could only come from trauma. «Buttercup?» she asked, placing a hand on top her thigh. Not wanting to make anything worse, she waited.

«I think I lost my powers,» the green girl finally says, eyes blinking. She looked so tired. When was the last time her sibling had slept? «Him came to me before Butch did. He told me about it, and that I can seriously die. Being Him, I didn't believe it. The devil has been running with lies our whole life, and can't be trusted.» The redhead nodded. They all agreed on it. «So, when that son of a bitch-»

«Language, Buttercup,» Blossom commented, but like always, her sister didn't take notice of it.

«- showed up, I decided it was alright to test out if it was true.»

«You fought?» bobbing her head, the girl stared at her arms with a sad expression.

«I couldn't beat him, Blossom. He blocked my kick as if it wasn't there, then he punched me straight in the chest, sending me flying. I tried to guard it, but as you can see, it wasn't much of a success.» She laughed nervously. As little, the green puff had hated contact from others, and they had a rocky relationship. They still had, but the pink puff could tell straight away that this was Buttercups way of saying she was uncertain of what was happening, and it was scaring her. The powers had meant much to her. More than to the pinkette and blonde.

«It's going to be all right. I'll figure out what is happening and fix it.» Blossom went in for a hug, and kissed the top of her head. The brunette sighed before shuffling, indicating that was enough. Respecting the boundaries, she pulled away and ruffled her head. Feeling like a girl didn't make amend with the green puff, so Blossom had learned what she could stand for. Punching her arm, ruffling her hair and nudging her were things she could tolerate.

They sat there, staring at the window as the sun set. Not many words were needed between them, because sometimes the best cause of action was just being there, keeping each other with company. The green puff was blinking slower and slower, until her eyes shut close. A soft smile came to the girls face as she watched the peaceful look upon her siblings face.

«Honey, I'm home,» Butch barged through the door. Quick and strong like a hurricane, the redhead stood and pushed him back, out of the room. She wasn't sure if he tried to resist, but the girl managed to drag him along, shutting the door behind them before her sister woke.

«What's the deal?» the ruff snorted, sending her a displeased look.

«Listen here,» she growled him straight in the face. The man straightened up, feeling her wrath incoming. It reminded him of Brick, and automatically backed off, finding a loss of words. «My sister is hurt because of the stunt you pulled,» he tried to protest and come in with words, but she covered his lips, hushing at him. Those pink eyes wore a dangerous flame.

«You're not going to bother her for the rest of her recover, or I will call the police on you. I don't care who your father is, because he can't buy the court and save your sorry ass from physical abuse. The evidence is in that room. Back the hell away from my sister. Am I making myself clear?»

«Yes, ma'am,» the man muttered, trying to get out of her grip without touching her. She released him in a quick motion. Butch held a plastic bag in his hand and she eyed it, trying to find out what was inside it. It wasn't just one object, she figured out, due to the odd form it had. They stood there a couple of seconds in awkward silence before the girl opened her mouth.

«You paid for her hospital bills.» It wasn't a question, but her voice said she demanded an answer to it. The ruff exhaled heavily before scratching the back of his neck.

«It's kind of my fault she's in there. I don't owe it to her, it just happened in the moment when the nurse and doctors asked.» He shrugged his shoulders, not sure where he was going with it himself. Folding her hands, she looked him straight in the eyes.

«Thank you.»

«Eh, don't think about it, pinkie.» It caught her slightly off guard how the nickname still stuck, several years after last used. Brick had been the last to call her that, making another threat on ruining her mood the next day at school. What he didn't know, was that she had transferred and moved to another school, the painful memories of Twonsville too much for her. «By the way, Brick called. He wants you back at work.» Eyes widen, she fished her phone out of her pocket and stared at it. 7.15. He was going to skin her alive.

«I have to go,» she turned and hasty walked away, turning one time to wave but changed her mind as she saw the green ruff approaching the door. «And stay the hell away from Buttercup!»

«Yes, ma'am,» he laughed and she wished she had time to stay behind to prevent him from doing anything. He was Buttercups counterpart, and sure to ignore her warning. If the greens wanted anything, they did it. It was a major pain.

Passing the Asian woman, she gave her a wave of good bye, and he nurse smiled, helping an old man walk somewhere. Once exiting the building, she found the car and started it up. Boy, he was going to be so angry. Pushing the limits as far she dared, she was at the company twenty-five minutes later. By now, it was almost dark outside and she hurried along. There wasn't a living soul on the inside, and she felt pissed. Brick was holding her there just in spite. Knowing the boy, he had just called her over then left for home himself, to laugh her up in the face the day after. However, she couldn't dare being in debt to the Jojo's, so not coming wasn't really an option.

A little unsure of where to go, Blossom thought she knew the way. Rounding the corner, she gazed upon a four way hall. Now, that wasn't right, she figured and had to go back, and take another turn. It took her a couple of frustrating minutes before she found the right door, and inserted the code. Having a sticky brain for numbers and facts, she didn't need to keep a note with the digits.

It beeped red. That was odd, she wrinkled her eyebrows before staring up and down. This was the right place, she concluded as the sign on the door said ''Chemist lab, level 7.''

Pulling at the door didn't help her much. Trying the code again, she found it futile. It wouldn't budge. He had changed it, and probably gone home. Growling over his childishness – first giving her wrong directions and now calling her to work while changing the code – the redhead kicked the door annoyed and turned to leave. She got a couple of feet down the hall when a click caught her attention and she turned.

The door was open, and slowly closing itself. Blossom turned back, and barely caught the door before it closed. Swinging it open, she found the place in dim light. A couple barely glowing bulbs lit the room, and Brick was sitting on his chair, staring angry at her. That look was familiar to her, and she swallowed, staring away. Sighing, she went inside and changed to her lab coat.

«A couple of things came up, making me a little late.»

«You're almost an hour and half too late,» he commented, and she felt chills down her spine. Brick hated it when people didn't keep to the schedule. Much like herself.

«I know. I'm sorry.» The girl took place beside him, but keeping her distance. He worked without lifting his gaze, and it was how she wanted it. For the next hour, they didn't talk much as she handed him different objects, knowing exactly what he wanted, and assisting him in different actions. They didn't make small talk, seeing it unnecessary, pointless and a waste of time. Somehow, Blossom found it almost nice. They didn't bicker, pick at each other or tried to sabotage the work just in spite. As it was, they were just working, trying to get done.

«Alright,» Brick finally said. «I have to go fetch a couple of things, you wait here.»

«What things?» she asked, staring down at the liquid. It had a blueish color shining through the black. The redhead groaned as he unbuttoned his coat and hung it on the wall.

«You'll see. Just wait here. If anything happens while I'm away, write it down.»

«Fair enough,» she waved her hand at him as he exited, eyes on the mesmerizing chemicals. He hadn't told her what the purpose of it was, and she wasn't sure herself. It wasn't like anything she had seen before. The clock on the wall was ticking, and she leaned on her elbow. Whatever Brick thought the thing was going to do, she doubted it would ever move. Taking the bottle in her hands, she moved it slightly around. It did remind her of something like oil or liquid grease. It moved slowly around, and she placed it back on the table, eyes going to the clock. It was almost half to ten. Hopefully Buttercup was sleeping until tomorrow in peace, and Bubbles had gotten safely home. Folding her hands, she patiently waited. Five minutes passed. Ten. Fifteen. Twenty. Her cheek hit the arms on the table and she sighed. Did he leave without telling her? Sounded like something he would do.

«Dummy,» she muttered to herself as her eyes fell shut. _He'll be back here in five minutes_ , she told herself, knowing that wasn't true.

* * *

Brick stretched out on his queen size bed, pleased with himself as the morning light hit the end of the blanket. It was silky crimson and the man turned toward his night stand. On it was a black clock, 6.15 displaying in digital numbers. The soft snoring at his left side came from a girl with curly, carrot hair. Her makeup was smudged out on her face and the sheets, making him smirk to himself. He still had it.

Climbing out of bed, knowing she would take her sweet time before ever considering waking up, he shuffled off to the bathroom in the bare suit of Adam. Turning the head up, he stepped into the shower, letting the chilling water sooth his body. It wasn't cold to his touch, and steamed as it came in contact. Brick, as many times before, wondered what it felt like to be cold. He couldn't ever remembering being it, even when facing Blossom and her icy breath.

At her late appearance after going to the hospital, he had been too annoyed to keep working properly. When leaving, he had felt a tiny bit of anger at her for making him wait and defy his trust like that, so he had told her he would be back. He wasn't sure if she believed it, but being whom she was, the girl had told she would wait. Blossom wasn't stupid, and would surely head home after fifteen minutes. If anyone actually knew him on a personal level, it was his counterpart.

He wondered if it was a good idea to leave her there with the newly made chemical. Don't get him wrong, Brick didn't care what happened to her, and was in fact curious on what the substance would do and the consequences of it. Surely, something evil and bad, he snickered to himself. A sigh left his lips as his normally flaming body toned town a few notches, enough for him to exit the shower and feel the air on his skin. The man didn't get any goosebumps, because it wasn't cold. Finding new clothes in the closet, the maid always leaving new and fresh there after cleaning the bathroom, he dressed up in his boxer and pants, heading back into the room.

The girl was still fast asleep, twisted into his sheet, arms and feet everywhere. Quickly exiting the room to not wake her – not that it mattered, he could bang around with pans and the girl would yet be as still as the grave – he strolled down the hall of the huge mansion. Being well known in the house, he quickly found the kitchen. Like the mistress in his bed, Butch would also take his sweet time in the morning if he didn't have to get up to something their father wanted. As of currently, he did own something like a 'company', and being the boss gave him the liberty of choosing working hours himself. What Boomer concerned, Brick had no idea what his little brother was up to. Hadn't known for years. The blue boy kept to his mysterious self.

Grabbing a green apple off a plate, he flicked the refrigerator open and took a quick peak inside, staring at the delicious food. Cold dinner, luxurious meat, cheese, greens, rare vegetables and a flush of different colors. So many different drinks. The redhead was used to it, pulling out a plate of cheese and grabbed some bread of the counter. Munching at one, then the other, he tasted the plain and acidity in his mouth. Sure, he loved great food that melted on his tongue and had him drooling until no end; but he didn't have the time at that moment. Leaving half of it on the counter for the maids to clean up, he walks into his clothing room.

It was a whole room, just for his wearing. Shoes, pants, boxers, socks, coats, hats, you name it. Yet another day of work. Brick grabbed a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt. His hand hovered over several places before he grabbed a squared, red shirt. Pulling it over his shoulders and staring into his mirror, the man felt his thoughts wander to the redhead at work. She had also worn a shirt like that, just in pink. Being his counterpart, he figured she had good taste, just like him.

Waving it off, he exited the room, walking back the hallway. Mojo Jojo was strolling toward him, quickly catching his attention with a swing of his hand. Holding a sigh, the redhead follows the dark man into his office.

«How is the project going, my son?» he asks, taking a seat at the huge table. The walls were a dark brown in tree, furniture in beautiful patterns, books in shelves and everything was in order. His son took the seat across from him.

«Which one?» the redhead asks, studying his perfectly manicured nails, tilting his head a little.

«You could tell me about both of them. I know you have a productive mind and gladly take on five and six different challenges at the same time, so let's stick to the two latest.»

«The none-intoxicating chemical for our oil is going rather well. My new assistant is being quite helpful and manages to keep up with my pace. It's not perfected, but absolutely getting closer.» The man bobbed his head, shuffling some of his things around before folding his hands in his lap. It was his business stance.

«Excellent. So Ms. Utonium is doing her share of the work, like we are paying her to?» Something about his voice told Brick to watch his tongue, thought he already was very good at it.

«Yes. I didn't think you brought up these interviews before a month of working had passed.» It had never come to that, anyway. Brick was quick to dispose of people whom brought him down or couldn't keep up. There was one who had managed to somehow stay on track for almost two weeks, but Brick had made things too complex and the let down when he couldn't follow any more, had him fired. His father hadn't even batted an eye. Now, he was actually showing some interest. Brick didn't know if he liked it.

«I don't, but seeing she is a former powerpuff, I cannot feel too comfortable with keeping an extra eye out for her. We didn't exactly give her a choice when it came to working at the company, but that doesn't make me less, off guard.» Tasting the words, he whirled a pen in his hand. «Besides,» his purple orbs fell on his son, brows low in his face. «Security photos shows her leaving the building for almost two hours, then returning. Working for me, that is not acceptable without a doctors consent.»

«She doesn't need one. I sent her on that trip.» A brow rose high and Brick held his sharp gaze, not feeling anything close to a flinch. «There was something I needed, and I asked her to fetch it for me. You know she's my assistant, so I can ask her to do whatever I want without having to ask you first. Isn't that why you allowed me to have one in the first place? To speed up things?»

A hand stroke his dark hair before the fingers landed at the beard. The man fumed to himself, sounding displeased with the quick and smart answer.

«That is true. Just keep a close eye on the pink puff. She isn't called the clever one for nothing.» The young man nodded his head, turning back and forth in his chair. It was the same as always; the monkey didn't seem to understand that his children wasn't five any more and quite capable of seeing the whole picture. His foot started shaking up and down, and he placed a hand on it to stop. Being one of the rowdyruffs had it's downs. The permanent unease in the body was one of them. As far as he figured, it was part of owning the potential for destruction. Butch was horrible at keeping it in check, and it some times shone through for Brick. The subject of his counterpart made him just that; tense and restless.

«Now for the other subject that intrigues my attention more.»

«Project X,» his son said, forcing back a smirk. He himself was quite interested in how it hard turned out.

«Well?» Mojo rose an eyebrow, leaning forward in his chair, placing his elbows on the desk.

«I'm not sure yet,» he admitted, waiting for his fathers reaction. The thing about Mojo was that he never reacted the way you expected him to. Brick remembered several episodes from his childhood where he had tried to please his father, and it had ended up with the monkey going through to roof with anger. At other times, he hadn't done a single thing and the monkey would praise him.

«You've been working for months on this. Any progress at all in this amount of time?» And there it was. The clench of the jaw, showing how much disgust he was holding back. Mojo wasn't pleased at all. Micro expressions, which Brick had learned to copy and read. The redhead had been like an open book in his younger days, and he figured that was why the puffs had won their fights. Training himself to keep a blank expression like his father, he had somehow become more and more of a stone, and it had helped. Back in high school, when he and Blossom was competing about everything, she had started to struggle with his new self. It had pleased him to see her puzzled face and uncertain actions.

«I made one mix last night that seems promising. As you know, it has to stand for some time, so I'll check in on it when I get to work.»

«How promising?»

«It was glowing blue.» The older man smirked, obviously pleased with the visible results.

«Good. That is indeed progress. Get to work, and send me a file on it before the end of the day. That is all, you may leave.» A hand waved at him, and the redhead stood up, gladly taking the command. «By the way,» the voice echoed between the lonely walls as his hand found the door handle.

«Tell Boomer I need to speak with him. He is in his room.» Nodding his head, the man exited into the hallway. Their rooms were on the second floor, every social room on the first, and the hobby rooms on the third. A couple of years back, the blue kid had moved to his one the third floor, locking himself away with whatever he had there. Brick had tried to talk to him several times, but the man isolated himself. As time passed, it would go longer and longer for each visit; at least he tried. Butch had completely given up on it a long time ago, and they only saw each other at house parties or mandatory arrangements.

It stung something deep inside him, how the boys once so close had come to grow so far away from each other. He wasn't really sure when it had set full in, but the incident years back was probably a huge part of it. It hadn't directly touched their lives in the way others, but it stuck with them.

He went up the stairs, his feet touching the soft, red carpets along the way. Glancing at the clock on his watch, he noticed the abnormal good time he had. Only half an hour had passed since he had jumped into the shower. The doors were marked green, blue and red. There were only three, the rooms themselves being split up in different sections. It was for the ruff's use only, and no one was allowed there, not even the maids.

Knocking on the door, he heard shuffles on the other side. Boomer seemed to always be awake, no matter what time he came to him. Didn't the boy sleep? The red ruff knew from experience he could go a long time without shutting his eyes, but after a week, it made him irritated and every small amount of discomfort seemed to thick him off.

«Boom?» he called out. «Mojo wants to speak with you.» Everything was silent as he talked, and waiting for about a minute, he wondered if the boy had been sleeping and that was what had caused the noise. He knocked again, waiting. No reply came, and he opened the door. It barely moved two inches before being stopped by his younger brother. He was pale, orbs hazy and huge circles under his eyes. The withered, blond hair looked dirty and a huge sigh left his lips.

«I heard you the first time.» The voice was harsh and low, testing. _When had he last left the room_ , Brick wondered. His brother really looked like a mess, and whatever distance they had put between them, it still stung to see his own flesh and blood like this.

«He didn't tell me what it was.»

«Don't worry about it, Brick, I already know what he wants,» his blond sibling said, stepping out of the room. It was too dark for him to see anything, and the door closed before he could use his night vision to find out. Whatever was going on, was Boomers business. His blue eyed brother seemed to be in a hurry, as he almost ran down the stairs and entered their fathers office.

Brick wouldn't have minded any of this, if it hadn't been for the small sentence catching his attention.

«What the hell is he doing here?» It was the outburst of his brother. The oldest had heard his younger siblings angry before. He had seen Butch beyond rage and infuriated with blood lust, Boomer gone complete psycho in battle, and he himself had blackened with pure anger, seated deep within all of their core. This was something like that. Flustering up faster than ever possible, the sentence and his voice so terrifying, it sent shivers down his arms. No matter how lost his brothers had been in their trance, it had never faltered Brick in his stance, made him widen his eyes nor turned his head in astonishment. This wasn't like anything he had heard before, and it made him wonder what – or rather who – could cause such a reaction from his normally calm brother.

Hovering over the ground, he zipped soundlessly to the door, listening in on the conversation.

«It doesn't matter. Our guest is leaving anyway, seeing our business is done.» It was the sharp voice of Mojo speaking.

«Yes, that is indeed true. Mojo, you know what to do. Good day to you, dearie.» Brick recognized the high, overjoyed voice right away. Chills went down his spine and he clenched his jaw. Why the hell was Him in their house? And what business did he have with Mojo? What were they plotting? And why was his brother this furious? Sure, he didn't like Him either, but he didn't hate him at such a deep level as his brother displayed. Brick could not stand not knowing.

«Take a seat, my son,» Mojo said. A couple of seconds went by, and he heard shuffles of feet across the floor, leaving the door before carefully sit down in the chair the redhead had been sitting in the very same morning.

«I have a task for you. One which cannot be failed this time. If you can't see it though, I have to do take to more drastic measures, which you will not like the outcome of.» A heavy silence fell on the room. Boomer had that effect around him, always making a room feel ill and taut. His signature sigh was in place before he took up the conversation again.

«And what will you have me do this time?»

«Something even you won't be able to ruin. You are going to ask her.» Hesitant, the blue man shuffled in his seat, uneasy.

«What makes you think she will listen to me? Let alone be around me?» Narrowing his eyes, Brick tried to wrap his mind around what they were talking about. Boomer had clearly been asked to do something before, and it had failed. Now, their father had found something that was fail proof. He didn't like the sound of that.

«Because of these.» Mojo had handed his sibling something, and silence once again fell for too long, before his brother cleared his throat.

«I understand.» As the man stood up to take his leave, Brick hurried back to the hall and let himself down, grabbing his jacket and leaving for work, mind working on what he had just heard. His father had assigned Boomer to something that needed to be done. It had to be something special, else he would ask Butch or himself; seeing they left the house more often and had the capability of accomplishing anything, but this task. Brick didn't appreciate secrets, and whatever his father was holding back; was big.

His car was ready, and he clicked the car keys to open the red, sports car. It was a true beauty, with leather seats and the best stereos money could buy. Backing up, he sped out from the huge mansion, and headed for work, his occupied brain working on the puzzle at hand. No matter what he figured out, it just didn't seem to fit with ever part of the conversation. Biting the insides of his cheeks, he gripped hard at the steering wheel, breaking a few speed limits. Nothing severe money couldn't fix, of course.

Brick had a VIP parking spot close to the entrance with his name on it, which gave him less wasted time on walking if parked further away. Johanna waved at him with her fake, pearly white teeth he could smell the bleach leaking out, and he ignored her. He knew what they all were saying about him behind his back, but the man didn't give it any mind. What they thought, had no severe meaning for him.

It wasn't a long way, and before long, he was at the lab door, inputting the code. He would change it again in two days time. Glancing down at his phone while entering the room, he found it a tad too early to be there, but he didn't really care much. At what hour he went to and came from, wasn't that much of a deal as long as he did get it done in time.

He grabbed a white coat from the hangers and quickly dressed it on, fetching a set of plastic glasses. Brick had never spilled something without purpose in his entire life, but Mojo forced him to dress for the job.

Turning toward his working tables, he became rather perplexed with scenario. Blossom was sleeping on the desk beside the empty, Erlenmeyer glass flask. At the sight of the black content, he quickly stepped up to it, horrid with himself. Had he really left it open? Had his frustration with this girl been that blinding, he had left it unlocked? Wanting to blame the girl, he turned his flaming gaze on her, seeing something black at the corner of her nose and eyes. He quickly picked up a cotton swap and caught some of it before it pulled itself into her. The liquid started moving around in the white fluffy material, and he threw it inside the bottle, locking it in place. No sound could be heard, or any odor smelled as the liquid ate the soft materials, doubling it's size. It only took it a few seconds, and then it fell flat down, as if never moved.

He quickly looked at the girl before looking back at the evil things. A smirk tugged at his lips.

«Oh, well. This just speeds up the process.»

At the sound of his voice, the girl opened her eyes and her pink orbs met his. She smiled slowly, before regaining herself and turning her face into one of blank. Now why would she smile at the sight of him? Brick wondered, arching an eyebrow at her. The girl sat up and stretched her arms. Somehow, he felt disappointed for the slow reaction. Was she just going to act as if the liquid wasn't even in her system? Then, a very unsettling thought hit him. What if she could withstand it, and prevent from ending up like the cotton swap. Bloody hell, the man thought to himself. He was back to square one, and Mojo was going to be furious when he figured it out.

«I didn't think you would be back,» the girl muttered, closing her eyes as her body woke with long stretches and popping sounds.

«Of course I came back. This is my working place, and it seems you haven't left here yet.» He pointed at the clock, and the red haired girl turned to look at it, a sheer look of horror hitting her.

«I've been her all night,» her breathless voice whispered and he nodded his head. He moved before her and picked up her jacket, quickly inserting a small bottle into one of the pockets, just in case. «I- I- I have to go home, to see to Bubbles and call Buttercup at the hospital.» Well, now he knew which one of the sisters had gotten hurt.

«No worries. I figured something like this would happen, so I've filed an authorized off day for you.» That was of course a lie, and he had to make a note to himself to remember to do it, so his father wouldn't flip the tables.

«You'd do that for me?» she said, dressing out of her lab coat. He looked at her clothing. They had to be really dirty by now after the long use.

«Pinky, you hurt my feelings. I do take care of my employees, you know.» She gave him a very knowing look, and he flashed her what he hoped was a sincere smile. He didn't care at all, but it wasn't like he needed to say it for the both of them to know it. Handing her the jacket, the puzzle fell together in his head. When Blossom went home, he didn't even care to answer her good bye.

Why, of course. The answer had been there all along in front of his face, and he just hadn't seen it. Brick knew what Boomer was sent to do, and who the 'she' they had talked about was. Now it made so much sense why his blue brother was picked out for the mission, and not himself.

«You're one fucked up man, Mojo,» he muttered to himself, moving the black liquid inside the bottle a couple of rounds around. At his counterparts place, was a small note and a pencil. It was completely blank.

* * *

Bubbles felt horrible. Over the last past week, she had grotesque nightmares of the incident with Ace, mixed with her trauma from old times, spiced together with her fictive imagination. The outcome was horrible, and the blond showered several times a day to get ride of the sweat. Despite her exhaustion, she couldn't seem to sleep. Her body was restless, but she didn't dare leave the apartment in fear of meeting the green gang, or any other person in general.

After the first night alone, Blossom had made sure to call from time to time if Brick made her work late. Buttercup was in the hospital due to fighting with Butch; it sounded like he was visiting her often, because she was rather annoyed and kept yelling at someone to leave her alone. Neither could help any of it, and Bubbles couldn't bring herself to tell them what had happened. Her sisters would surely rush to her side, and given their condition, neither had the luxury to do so.

Blossom had apparently used up Bricks generosity, because he made her work around the clock, like Buttercup once had. She managed to get home and eat, maybe get a couple of hours of sleep before rushing off again. It was specially hard on her the first couple of days where she almost muttered to herself on what she needed to remember and do. Her redheaded sibling was known for working herself to death, so she couldn't tell her. She had enough to think about.

It would be easy to tell her green sister, if it wasn't for the fractured ribs and broken arms. Buttercup had a mad temper, and could encounter anything if it was to protect people dare to her, and Bubbles knew she could always count on her. It wasn't that she didn't need her sisters, but the blue puff couldn't find the courage to ask for help. Being a bother to anyone else was out of the question, and that left her with the problem at hand; nightmares, paranoia, anxiety, fear and darkness was filling her whole being as each hour of terror passed. It was after the one week something odd started happening, and it scared her even more.

Letting light inside wasn't an option any more, so she had covered up everything with whatever she could find of blankets, sheets and light clothing. The TV was turned off, and she stared at the food Blossom had brought that very day. Apples, oranges, cookies, dried meat, drinks and several other types of food. They were suppose to be stored in the kitchen, but she had moved everything out to the living room. The girl hadn't touched anything green, including the pears and cans of Mountain Dew, and was now studying everything. Her stomach was beyond growling, and turned to a furious never ending howling. It pained her very being, and today, she had figured, was the day to try again. Something was going down, one way or the other.

Hovering her hand over the different objects, she decided on the apple. Maybe the fresh taste of fruit would be able to satisfy the nausea. With trembling lips, she brought it up to her face, taking a small bite. So far so good, she thought and bit down on it, letting it roll around with her tongue for a while, before swallowing. The reaction was immediate, and she ran straight for the toilet, emptying her hollow stomach. It hurt as she dry heaved for a couple of times, spitting the rest of the stomach acid into the water and washed up at the sink.

Staring up at herself, Bubbles glared into her sky blue eyes. Once, there had been reflection of sunshine in those beautiful orbs, now all they told the world was pain, sorrow and anger. She was angry at herself for killing that boy, for letting herself be drugged down like that and taken advantage of. She was angry at herself for not heading her green sisters warning about the neighbors, costing all of her savings. It pained her how she was left with these horrible feelings and remorse, not just for what she had done wrong, but everything she hadn't done to stop it. They might still be out there, and do the same thing to another, more helpless girl. If it wasn't for her powers, she wouldn't have been able to get away. Bubbles was angry at herself for not killing every single one of them.

«No,» the girl slapped a hand over her cheek, turning away from the ghastly mirror and those judging eyes. She couldn't kill anyone. It wasn't how a powerpuff was suppose to use her powers. A tiny, dark voice snickered in her mind. _Then what are the powers for, if not for defending yourself?_

 _They aren't for killing_ , she told herself for the countless time, glancing back into the mirror. All that was left was a scared, little girl. Again, her eyes filled with tears and leaked over, making the horrible headache return. How many pills had she taken that day? Five, six? Bubbles didn't know. It was hard to keep track, as she took one every time the pain made it hard to see.

Stumbling out of the bathroom, she wished for something stronger. Something that could really remove the pain. It hurt. It really hurt.

Determent to keep trying, she sat down in front of the rest, picking up the apple from the floor. It was dusty and dirty, making her set it at one of the ends, not feeling like getting up and throwing it into the trash just yet. The apple had probably been too sweat, she figured, and grabbed the orange. Removing the peel, her fingers turned orange. Her nails were bit down to the ends, some of them wounded from the fight with her mouth, clearly lost. Taking one of the boats, she swallowed skeptically before putting it onto her mouth, chewing on the sour fruit. The liquid filled her cheeks, and she soon had to swallow. Preparing for the worst, she was already on her feet when it came in return, head bowing over the toilet.

«Shii-» she sobbed, grabbing the water bottle to her left. They were all over the house, prepared to drown her hungry stomach for a couple of hours as it tossed and turned the water. It didn't taste anything special, so she had no problem keeping it down. Anything else felt wrong, grows.

Sighing, she grabbed a bucket, filling the bottom with a little water. It was in the middle of the day, and Blossom wouldn't be home for another seven hours, at least. The orange was on the floor, and she picked it carefully up and placed it on the table, together with the red apple. Maybe they had too much taste, she thought and broke off a piece of cheese, holding it up in front of her face. She wasn't big on it, so she doubted it would work at all. Desperate times required desperate measures, she told herself, toasted with the piece before throwing it down the gape. It didn't have much of a taste, and she swallowed, bending into the bucket. It took a few calm seconds, before her stomach protested.

At this point, she wanted to give it all up and starve to death. Maybe there were tasteless drinks out there which she could get down. This wasn't her first try, but she felt it was something like her last. There had been so many things she had requested Blossom to buy, and she hadn't managed to get down one single thing. She felt like she was betraying her sister, and her money. Bubbles used to love avocado. The blond girl could watch TV and eat it with a spoon. Now, her stomach denied her that pleasure, and thus she had tried other things. Fish, meat, rice, potatoes, vegetables, fruits and chicken. The girl had tried eggs, cheese, ham and jam. Nothing seemed to work.

Crying, she lay down on the carpet, grabbing the bottle to her chest. Everything hurt, and she couldn't do a single thing about it. Her sisters couldn't help her, and she couldn't help herself. Bubbles felt like shit.

A knock could be heard at the door. Jumping straight in the air, she grabbed around herself and stared wide eyed at it. She could see two feet shining from the small crack under the door. Who could it be? Was it Ace? Had he come back for her? Bubbles pushed herself up agains the wall, hovering a meter up in the air. The knock came again.

«Is there anyone in there?» a small voice said, and the blond let out a beath she didn't know she had hold. It was a little girl. She barely caught herself in the air before opening the door, and landed soft on the carpet before answering.

«Yes?» she said, her voice sore from the stomach acid, the light in the hallway burning in her eyes. Her hair was fluffy. The girl, blond pigtails and a school uniform swallowed and took a small step backwards. Bubbles assumed she looked the same way she felt.

«I'm sorry. It's been a rough week with so much to do.» Flashing her an uncertain smile, she straightened up and combed her hair with her fingers, trying to straighten it out. It seemed to calm down the little girl.

«Do you need a doctor?» the girl said, tilting her head to one side. Yes, Bubbles thought. I need a shrink to comfort me about the murder I have done, to learn me to control my powers and reassure it will never happen again. She couldn't tell this to the little girl, no matter how much she longed for help, and quickly shook her head.

«No, honey. That's all right. Was there something you wondered about?» she said, covering the opening in the door as the girl tried to peak inside. She knew it smelled of rotten and heavily intoxicating, and had to prevent it from being exposed. Maybe she would call the cops, and who knew what hell would be brought out.

«My school is going to hold a theater performance, and I'm handing out flayers,» the girl said while giving her a piece of paper. It was bright with shining letters. «There's an entrance fee, and we're hoping as many as possible will come. The money goes into a school trip.» Bubbles nodded her head, staring at the squiggly letters. _Twonsville middle school_ , it said at the top. _The 7th is going to hold a performance about Romeo and Juliet. A bazaar will be hold together with several game stalls_. Bubbles stared at the date; it was a week from now.

«I hope you will come, miss. You look like you could need a break,» the girl smiled as she moved along to the next. Closing the door, the blond stared at the paper between her thumb and index finger. Damn straight she needed a vacation from this hell hole, but could she do it? Could she go out and meet other people? The blond didn't know, and feared the worst. What if she couldn't control her powers? What if someone touched her, and she accidentally killed them in her fear of what they could possible do to her? Crunching it together, she threw it into the wall on the other side of the living room. It hit and fell down with a low _thud_.

She couldn't get out among others if she didn't even stroll down the street. Picking herself up from the floor, she ran a hand through her hair, sighing deeply. Moving to the paper, she picked it up and stared at it, straightening the wrinkles as best she could. It was handmade, she concluded, and felt even worse for destroying something they had used so much time to make. The fee wasn't much, and she could afford it, despite her need for money. In the split second, she made up her mind to go there. One week. She had one week to get better and be among others.

Blossom and Buttercup couldn't help her, because they were busy taking care of their own cisis at hand. That left her with one person that could help her. Bubbles could help herself. She was going to rise over this, and figure out a way to get by, on her own. That's what Buttercup and Blossom would have done. Rolling her shoulders into a better attitude, she went for the bathroom. The girl was pale and had bags under her eyes. Washing the skin in the sink, she wiped off the cold water, before her hand reached for the bag of makeup. Concealing most of the damage, she applied mascara to her eyelashes and contoured her eyebrows. As good as new, she thought and put the bag away.

The blond already felt much better, and as she entered the living room, she came to realize how much of a mess she had made. Food was everywhere, clothes to no end, a bucked filled with puke. It was as if nothing had changed when she first had seen Buttercup's apartment. Her green sister had an excuse, she didn't have time to clean up with all of her work. Bubbles had just stopped caring and purposely made a mess. She immediately went to work, taking the food back to the kitchen, throwing it into the trash. The clothes were picked up and sorted into the bathroom, ready for cleaning. Searching for anything in the pockets, she came over something inside her sisters pants. Crooking an eyebrow, she picked out a small plastic bag.

Staring at the brown content for a couple of seconds, she gasped as she came to understand what it was. Buttercup was doing drugs? The girl swallowed, feeling her mouth dry. Her sister had sworn a couple of years back to never go down that path again, when enrolled into hospital for a month, then going to rehab for two. Goosebumps popped up all over her body, and she blinked rapidly as it was placed into her pocket. She had to get rid of it, for her sisters sake.

«Oh, god. What have you gotten yourself into, Buttercup,» the girl muttered as she pressed play on the machine, it filling with water and started rocking as it went to work. She changed her outfit into something clean, and grabbed the keys at the table. Blossom had made two copies some days back, giving one to her sister at the hospital and taken one self. She grabbed a green beanie from Buttercup and a long coat Blossom had brought, whirling her face into a scarf to hide it. Taking on her shoes, she stared at the door for a couple of seconds, readying herself. It had to be done. She had to face her fear if she was ever going to overcome it. Drawing three breaths, she closed her eyes as she opened the door and stepped outside.

Quickly glancing up, pleased with herself, she saw something that filled her with horror. Ace was standing with his back to her, ready to leave his apartment. He was talking to someone, and that disgusting smile made her stomach fill with ice, and she quickly ran back inside, locking the door. She could barely breath as she ran for the other side of the room. Black dots were dancing in front of her eyes as she remembered the pain her body had felt, the unbearable feeling of being torn apart. That sleazy voice in her ear and her soul felt like it was shattering once again. Curling to a ball, she tried to block out the mental image by covering her ears.

Tears stung at the corner of her eyes, and she let them flow. Her inside felt like it was going to explode. _I can't do this. Please, someone, rescue me_.

* * *

Hey again! Here's the third chapter. Tell me what you think, and thanks for reading! In case this felt rather unclear: Mojo Jojo is a human in this story.

C: Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. Sorry about the late reply. Your comment didn't display before after I had updated chapter two. (Somehow it said I had a review I had not read yet, but I couldn't see it)

Sera: I'm glad you liked it, and thanks for leaving a review! I hope this chapter was exciting.

Guest: Aw, you're making me blush. That's really nicely said of you. Thank you so much for reviewing, and I hope this chapter was as much for to you as it was for me.

Gigiright: Thanks a lot. I used about two days to write the scene, one word and sentence here and there. I hope you liked this chapter.

SweetAngel98: Yes, English isn't my native language either, and I do love you pointing it out. It makes me aware and (sometimes) I do remember the difference and it sticks. Unfortunately I'm a little bad at fixing my own grammar, so I do appreciate it. Thank you for the review and taking your time to read my story. I do hope to see you return, and that the future chapters live up to your expectations.

Fireprincess326: That's really kind of you, and thank you so much for taking your time to leave a review! May the future chapters be just as good and interesting.

Helgabuttercup: Haha, yeah. I do love the greens myself, and for this story, it seems like they're the most stable couple. If they ever become a couple. We'll see. They're at least the ones at most peace (besides the physical trauma BC suffered.) Thanks for leaving a review! It means a lot to me. This chapter had very little actions for the greens, but next chapter...! I guess you'll just have to wait and see.

OLOLOLOLO: Thank you so much! I do hope you liked chapter three, too.

FFLuvr: Theories. I do love those deeply. Always fun to see how others thinks and wonders about actions and outcomes. Glad it caught your attention, and I do hope it keeps doing so in the future. There's so much that's going to happen, and everything will (hopefully) be interesting! Thanks for leaving another heartwarming review, and I hope this chapter lived up to your expectations.

BlueScarlet465: Now, your ideas and wondering are quite interesting. I'm not going to confirm or deny any of these, because that would be quite boring. To answer your question; Yes. Mojo Jojo is human in this story. More of this will come later, and I'm sorry if it came out unclear. Thanks for the long, analyzing theory. It was quite fun reading, and I loved it. And thanks for taking your time to read and comment. I hope this chapter peaked your interest further.

Big thanks to Ruby-Ray, SweetAngel98, angelcake1236, fireprincess326, BlueScarlet465, Sophia E.C Slytherin and ValerieRei for following this story. Another big thanks to SweetAngel98, angelcake1236, live. laugh. love. izzy  and ValerieRei for adding this to your favorites.

And you silent readers out there! You're all awesome!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4. Guilt

Butch was rather satisfied with himself. It had been a long week, and he had used most of the time to bother his least liked person in the world. It had pleased him how her groan echoed through the walls every time he entered her room. At first, he had teased her with all types of fast food he could get his hands on, but that had resulted in her sulking and calling for the doctors to make him leave, so he had started taking a portion for her too. The girl was too stubborn to ask for help with the feeding, and he would do it – he would miss on her mouth just to annoy her – if it wasn't for her highly protest and refusing his help. Not that he minded; watching her struggle with every bite and then groan in pain, making him smile.

It quickly grew boring, however. They didn't really have anything to talk about, and if he started on something she really didn't want to talk about, the girl would turn away and ignore him, and that lead to more boring time. After a couple of sulking hours at home, his redheaded brother had asked what it was. Butch was a loud sulker, and if he didn't have any fun, he was sure to ruin everyone others day.

«What do you want, Butch?» Brick had asked, giving him his infamous glare. As children, it had scared the green puff, because his older brother wouldn't think twice about whopping his ass into another level of pain. That had faded away over the years, and his brother had come to realize that ignoring Butch was the best option for himself. Being the green ruff gave him a responsibility to never ask for help, no matter what it was; so he had found the best way without asking. His redheaded brother knew straight away when Butch was stuck on something.

«I'm bored,» the man said, his left eye twitch.

«Go bother Buttercup. I don't have time for your childish games.»

«That's the thing. I don't know how to bother her any more. She's asleep, saying being awake is just too slow of a recover, and when I'm there; it's great, she hates being around me, but just sitting there is so,» his face twisted into a weird mask of word stuck-ness.

«Boring?» Brick finished, knowing his brother too well.

«Exactly,» Butch points at the man, before sinking back into the couch. «It is just so boring.»

«How about going to work? You haven't been there in some time.» Brick didn't know why he was trying at all, but getting rid of the annoying brother was a start.

«Na, the green gang got it under control.» At his words, Brick folded his arms over his chest and gave him the stare. Shaking his head, the green ruff knew how stupid it sounded and waved his hand, as if taking back to words.

«Never mind. Work is also boring, so I'm not going there.»

«You want to spend your day with Buttercup?» Brick asked, making Butch's eyes widen and he jumped to his feet.

«Hell no. She's loud, a bitch and I hate her.»

«Of course you do,» Brick smirked. Before Butch got the chance to explode and tackle his brother, the man held up a hand and stopped him in place. Despite their split up and going their own ways, Brick was the leader of the rowdyruffs, and Butch respected him sometimes.

«If you don't want to spend time with your green counterpart at the hospital, you couldn't take a game with you and bother her with it.» The words set of a chain reaction in Butches mischievous brain, and he slowly acknowledged the bright idea his brother had given him without actually suggesting it.

«That -,» the man waved a finger up and down, his head spinning off into endless possibility. «I can work with that.» Not bothering to thank his brother for the talk or advice, he went straight for the third floor, into his hobby room. Mojo had it done for them when he couldn't stand their nagging any more, and it gave them a possibility of storing everything they wanted, away from Mojo and leaving him to his important work.

He didn't make it into the room, before a hand on his shoulder prevented him from moving. The hindrance was rather annoying, so Butch turned quickly around, ready to bark at the intruder. The green puff didn't know what he expected; a maid, Brick, maybe Mojo, but never his blue brother. Boomer looked like real crap, hair dirty and pale in the skin. He had bags under his eyes, but his blue orbs were determent.

«You told me the green gang could do the work I demanded of them. That they could do any job sent their way.» His brother had asked a week back if Butch had any method of finding someone, and he hadn't been lying when requesting the green gang. They really could find anyone and anything.

«Yeah?» The green brother didn't think about his soft voice. Boomer had always had a soft spot inside his heart. It wasn't much, or big, but it was there.

«They couldn't.» Wrinkling his eyebrows, Butch blinked a couple of times. It had never been a problem for him; they would always come back with what he asked of them.

«What did you ask of them?» Butch said, rather curious on what it was his green gang couldn't do. Even when one of his 'workers' had gone missing, fled to another part of the earth, they had managed to find her and drag her back.

«I-,» the blond interrupted himself and visibly swallowed, pondering on if he was going to ask his brother or not. «Mojo asked me to find my counterpart and give her the object, like he asked of you and Brick.» Butch remembered when Mojo had asked that of him, and he had managed it without problems. But he already knew where Buttercup had been.

«You can't find Bubbles?»

«The green gang couldn't, and you said they could find anyone. I've been looking the past week anywhere I think she might be, but I haven't seen her at all. Not one gimps. It's like the girl doesn't exist.» Butch was too stuck up in the fact that his workers couldn't do the job they were set to.

«Ace couldn't find Bubbles? Are you sure?» His brother shrugged his shoulders.

«That's what he told me.»

«He told you? Boomer, the man's a drug dealer! You can't trust anything suspicious he says.» Again another shrug at the outburst.

«I figured he'd be too scared to lie to me, being your brother and all.» Narrowing his eyes, Butch let go of the door handle. It could wait. Nobody lied to a Jojo and got away with it. He was going to find out if the man actually was up to.

«He better be telling the truth,» Butch darkly said, storming down the stairs. He didn't mind Ace lying to authorities, to his friends, buyers, but if he dared lie is brother straight up in the face, then he might dare oppose he himself. The green ruff could have none of that. Brick was right; he shouldn't have left his work alone for so long. Things got out of hand.

He passed his redheaded brother, the man burying his nose in some papers and scratching his scalp. So like Brick, always busy with some form of work. Grabbing his leather jacket, he went for the car, keys already in the engine. Nobody dared steal from Butch Jojo.

Saying Butch had a job wasn't exactly true. The man was a boss of his own company, which wasn't exactly legal; like he cared. The green ruff did whatever he wanted, and as things were going, he didn't need to fear tickets and accuses. Everything was going smooth on the economy front.

Like his counterpart, Butch loved fancy cars and speed, danger, violence and everything brutal in general. His forest green and black car was like a panther, the outside looking soft and shining. The inside was black leather, comfortable enough to live in. He backed away from the huge mansion and smirked at his new ownership over _Izis backside_. It had taken him months to convince the old man to sell it to him, and he had given in with double of the price he had offered for the place. His brother had provided with this Intel, so it didn't come to the green boy as a shocker, but rather a warm feeling of victory. He had won. After taking over, he had moved his drug business to the lowest floor, hidden away from curious noses. He had changed it into a strippers bar, making it live up to it's known name. Headquarter was still up and running, and that was where he was going.

Butch didn't care much for his surroundings as he drove, banging his head to the metal music. Screaming at the chorus, he scared an old lady that was crossing the road, and the man laughed at her scrambling legs as she hurried away.

He parked the car in front of the doors, kicking them open.

«Freeze, police!» he shouted, scaring every person inside. They turned toward him, some gasping, others jumping in their seats and some even let out a yelp. The three seconds the horror lasted, the man burst out laughing, grabbing at his stomach.

«Always equally as funny, boss,» a man to his left said, and he flashed him a huge grin. There would never come any cops, snitch or authorities around; he had made sure of that, still they were so easily scared every time he did it. Amusing. He loved it.

Grabbing a bottle of liquor from the counter, he flips the cap off and takes a long, huge sip before staring at his workers. They nervously shuffle around and pretend to find the work interesting. It was clear he had been gone for a couple of days, because they weren't used to his sudden and fierce company. Pussies, all of them.

While scanning the flock of scared sheep, he lay eyes on Lil' Arturo. The teenager was visibly shaking and apparently high on something. Making his way over to the kid, he kicked his lifeless foot. Those dark orbs turned to the ruff, and it took a couple of seconds before he pulled himself together.

«B-b-b-boss,» he stuttered, trying to rise from the cold concrete. Pushing him back down with one hand on his shoulder, the ruff grinned his most mad smile, teeth flashing. The teen was biting on his lip, sweat forming on his forehead. Now why was he so nervous if he didn't have anything to hide? The answer was simple; he did have anything to hide.

«Lil' Arturo,» the green ruff said, dark, low voice. People turned away from the conversation, not wanting anything to do with it. Butch was a calm storm, and quickly raged up and became ugly. His workers had witnessed how cruel the ruff could be; collected and calm to get the information he craved, but quickly turned around and used force if proven not so effective.

«Where is Ace?» His grip tightened on the thin shoulder. The kid was barely fifteen, but Butch didn't care who worked for him, as long as they did a worthy job. Kid or no kid, having the green man as an employer meant everyone was equally punished if failing; it was never pretty.

«I- uh, I-i-i-i,» he stuttered further, swallowing with his whole head and making a grimace of fear. Slapping his face enough to snap him out of it, the ruff straightened him to look straight in the eyes as he leaned in closer, bottle still in hand.

«I asked you a question, Artie,» he hissed. «You better have paid for those products.» The kid nodded his head frequently, trying to regain his conscience.

«A-Ace g-gave them t-t-to me.» Lying was one thing, but the green gang leader would never dear stealing from him. He had witnessed himself what happened to people who had purloined from him before. The older man wasn't stupid. The possibility of lying was something he could get away with once, but stealing was unacceptable. Slapping the side of his cheek gently, the kid pushed his back up against the wall, somehow hoping it would help him get away from the green beast.

«And where is he now?» Patience was running thin, and it was his last chance of answering before he would take to more drastically measures. He was so ready to beat the kid up.

«U-up stairs, ta-taking care-e of some b-b-busine-ess,» the man moved his hands up to his face, fearing the incoming beating, trying to protect it as best he could. Patting his head, Butch moved to the door at the end of the room. It was flaming red; a fire door. He wasn't going to beat the kid for telling the truth; no, truth was rewarded with mercy.

Nobody dared glance up before the man had left the room. Butch went up the stairs, taking two and two in one step. He came to enter his most favorite room of the whole building. It was dark, a huge bed on the one side, covered in blankets and pillows. The man had spent several fun nights in there with women, alcohol and drugs. Good memories, he grinned. Ace was standing at the side of his desk; knowing better than to sit in his boss' chair. A woman was sitting in the guests seat, they both turned head as he entered.

«Boss,» Ace said, eyebrows rising over his sunglasses. The man wore them anywhere; outside, after dark, inside, to parties, anywhere. Butch had never cared to ask, for the same reason he didn't want anyone to ask him why he was doing or wearing what he did. It was his dealing, and he could do exactly what he wanted.

«Ace, I need to talk to you, alone.» If possible, the eyebrows moved even higher on his forehead, before, and the green man nodded for the girl to leave. She glanced between them before picking herself up and went out the door. It took a couple of seconds for Ace to regain himself.

«I didn't know you were back. Has anything come up?»

«Last week, I gave you an assignment. Today, i received a comeback that you weren't able to do it,» the man moved his head a little, visibly asking the question: _Is it true_? Sighing, the green gang leader sat down on the chair, gesturing for his boss to do the same. Butch folded his arms over his chest.

«Please,» the older man said, looking heavily tired and worn out. His chair did seem rather nice, so he did so. He sunk down, staring at his worker with cruel, cold eyes. He didn't meet his eyes, and this was rather unusual. Sure, Ace respected him and was one of the main reasons Butch had gained so much with his career, but this was something else. Shame? Fear? Ace had never shown obvious fear. Butch didn't like it, not one bit. He noticed the blue area on his chin and sore lip. He had spots of bruises around, and two fingers taped together, probably one of them broken.

«I believe this is about the person your brother wanted me and my gang to find.»

«Bubbles Utonium,» Butch confirmed, and the man flinched visibly under the glasses. Crooking the left side of his face, the green ruff waved a hand for him to continue, hating to stall conversations and use unnecessary much time on trivial things.

«We managed to locate her,» the man nodded his head, confirming. «However,» he pinched the bridge of his nose, winching at the pain. «She wasn't Bubbles.»

«You found Bubbles, but she wasn't Bubbles? Man, that makes no sense. You're talking in riddles, like Brick does,» Butch snorted annoyed. He couldn't stand uncertain answers like this. It made him angry and irritated. «I hate it, so get straight to the point of you don't want a beating for lying to my brother, and now me.»

«Alright, boss. Chill,» Ace said, scratching the back of his neck, leaning into his chair. «I thought I found Bubbles. It was in the back alley almost a week back. You should have seen the girl. The blond hair was how i remembered her as a child, but her eyes. They were cold and creepy, that one look you give a cockroach as it moves around in your apartment, or someone who wronged you and you seriously want them to suffer. The girl,» the man shuddered and shook his head, as if trying to erase the memories. «I approached her and asked her to come with me, because Boomer requested it. I didn't say his name, mind you. Something must have happened because she knocked Lil' Arturo, Grubber and Big Billy out, before falling face flat on the ground. The blond, she flipped. Rolling around on the concrete, screaming and shouting as if the devil himself was setting her on flames.»

It was a hard story to believe, but nothing about the man indicated he was lying. Ace was telling the truth.

«Snake and I went over to her, asking if she was okey. I remember kneeling down and trying to shake her, but she slapped my hands away while hissing. The blue puff is strong, so naturally I moved. Snake flipped his phone out, ready to call the ambulance, when she-» A shiver went through his body and he drew a quick breath. «The girl killed him, Butch. She stopped trashing around, and sent a beam of light straight at Snake, blasting his insides on the walls. The sweet and innocent powerpuff she once was, is no more. She then tackled me, beating me to a pulp.» He removed his glasses, displaying a black eye and broken nose.

Butch grimaced. Sure, he had seen the girl beat up people before, but never like this. What Ace told her, was more of a ruff thing to do, but only if provoked.

«Did you do anything before that?»

«Na, man,» the pale man shook his head, polishing his glasses with is shirt. «I stole some money from her sister, because the silly girl had left her apartment door open, but I don't think that's why she turned crazy.»

«You stole money from Buttercup?» Butch never imagined Blossom as the type to be able to steal from, besides, she had just moved back and might not have an apartment yet. He didn't think the blue puff had a home; Mojo had done his best in ruin her business with the art, he thought. The green ruff hadn't followed on their quick briefing on the different plans on the girls, other that Brick was going to fetch Blossom, he was going to buy up _Izis_ – firing her was just too amusing to pass upon and that gave him quite a challenge from here on – and Boomer. Well, the blue boy was going to do his. Butch couldn't remember. It had been something boring.

«Yeah, bro.» Ace smirked. «She stocks up on cash people at the bar gave her; always talking about moving away from Townsville when she had received enough. This was a couple of months back when we were still dating.» Butch felt his mouth dry at the thought of Buttercup and Ace dating. The men had been working together for years; how had he failed to notice it? Probably been too busy with his own drugs and sleeping around. Glancing the man up and down, he decided she had horrible taste.

«Give them to me,» He demanded, holding a hand out.

«Wait, what. Boss, this-»

«Rightfully belongs to me. Now hand it over before things turn ugly.» With a confused look, he handed the stack of money to the ruff. _Damn_ , he thought. The girl had really stacked up. Taking out ten percentage, he gave it to Ace for his cooperation. Sure, he was an anarchist, but he wasn't going to hold everything back. Something had to inspire these men to keep working for him besides fear. Remembering his brother, he turned them back on track, showing the gross thoughts away.

«But you do know where Bubbles live?» Shifting in his seat, Ace sighed.

«She's currently resides at BC's, but boss, you shouldn't go there. The blond is crazy.» Lifting himself up from the chair, seeing no reason to stay any longer after receiving what he wasted. Moving Aces chair out and bending over it, making the man shrink back, the gave him a deep glare.

«And where does BC live?» Head almost at the end of the pillow, the man muttered the address, feeling a light, but harsh slap across the face. Butch was strong and didn't need his over humanly powers to beat the green man.

«Good. Now, if I ever catch you lying to me or my brothers again, or incomplete your job, I will kill you.» Ace nodded his head, fear shining through his eyes over the black glasses, teeth rattling. Butch stood and moved to exit, fishing his phone up from his pocket, before throwing one look at the shit scared man. «And don't worry. I'm not the one going there.»

He finished texting his brother the address to the girl, receiving no reply. It was just how things worked between them. Neither really tried to have any contact, but they were still brothers and thus obligated to make do when the situation asked for it.

«Boss?» a puny voice said as he was leaving the stairs and fire door. Turning to his right, he saw Lil' Arturo, clearly sobered up some notches on his quick trip. «I believe you already heard the story about the blonde from Ace, but there is something you should know; something the boys didn't catch on to, but I saw it.» The green ruff encouraged him to go on, really wanting to get out of there. Shuffling uncomfortably around, the green man took himself together.

«Before Bubbles knocked us out, I saw red smoke seeping out of her mouth for a second. Ace later told me she punched me straight in the gutter, and it's possibly true because I can't remember anything but black after that. I know of only one creature capable of doing such a thing, so please be careful, boss.»

Giving the man a blank, small bag with a white powder, he quickly left, not wanting anyone else to hinder his departure. It wasn't anything severe; some analgesic he had snatched from a turned nurse when visiting Buttercup. The boy seemed like he really needed it; blood shot eyes and blue veins shining through his skin. The kid had probably never witnessed a friend get killed before.

* * *

Boomer waited all day in his room for the night to fall, trying to make a plan. Mojo had told him to just ask Bubbles to take the object of her free will; but he couldn't see it ever happening. Surely, she must know what he had done and would never want to see his face ever again. Brick and Butch didn't seem to be bothered with it; as if it had never happened, but Boomer remembered. He remembered it so clearly it hurt and he couldn't stand being around anyone.

Locking himself up, he had first bought all of Bubbles pictures, looking for anything that indicated she hated him or knew the truth. Years had passed, and he kept buying, hanging them up on the walls in his hobby room. The girl didn't change. She drew beautiful pictures of joy, happiness and captured memories. A sunset, rainbow, light and warmth. Nothing she made was anything close to dark or sad, and for some time, that was enough for the blond boy. However, he didn't dare face her.

Paranoia had seeped into his mind and the boy started locking the door, not even trusting people in the house, afraid someone would barge inside and accuse him. Boomer didn't want it to happen, because he wouldn't be able to lie or deny it; it was all true. Being alone was a burden, and it had started taking its toll on him. The boy couldn't sleep, nightmares haunting him, he couldn't bath, afraid a hand would come out of the water and choke him, and he feared the eyes of others. It felt like they could see straight through him, so he avoided it as best he could. He showered now and then so nobody would think he stored bodies inside the hobby room, and occasionally went to dinner, barely able to get anything down.

At first, he hadn't known what the feeling had been. Brick had given him a book to read a couple of months back, and it had been at that point he had realized just what was happening to himself as he witnessed the same thing display in the book. Boomer was feeling guilt.

The text from Butch snapped him out of his thoughts, as he stared at the sunbathing picture. It was warm, and made him feeling even worse. Why he was torturing himself wasn't a good question, because he wanted to feel pain and live with what he had done. It was an address and the blond quickly locked his door, stepping over piles of painting. The girl had been productive, and probably still was if it hadn't been for his father sabotaging for her. Mojo had bought up her employes and quickly turned them against her, leaving her in the dust. When the plan was being put into working, she had disappeared, and he couldn't seem to find her. Now he was back on track.

Stepping up to the window, he opened the curtains and stared into the sundown. It was going to be dark soon, and Boomer honestly didn't know how to approach her. He could knock on the door, but that would just be plain stupid. The girl was blond, but even she would smell that something was up. Besides, he didn't know if he dared look into her eyes without confessing his sins.

Lifting himself up into the air, the blue boy moved outside, closing the window half shut. A dark, blue streak was following behind him as he went from street to street, looking for the spesific one. He didn't know the place well enough to get to it straight away, and fumbled a couple of seconds before ending up in front of a huge block. If the Intel was correct, she lived on the eight floor.

Was he going to take the stairs, elevator? Could he knock on her door? Inhaling deeply, Boomer opened the door and went inside the building. It was on level with the outside, and two steps lead up to the postboxes and the elevator. The roof over him was painted white, and the metal on his side was silver. Nobody was around. Taking the steps in a quick jump, he pressed the button and watched as the light on the top was moving.

His heart started throbbing violently. What was he going to say to her? Would she believe him? Could she take the object out of her free will? What if he broke, and told her everything? And she hadn't known before and then started hating him? Biting the insides of his cheeks, sweat was forming on his forehead. _God, this was agitating_ , he thought and for a second, he considered the stairs. Just fly up them. But, no. He needed the extra time he could get to think things through; what to say, what to do.

The elevator was on the second floor now, and he felt his palm water up. It was sticky and he wiped it off on his jacket, shaking his hands and kept gripping and unclench. The doors came apart with a pleasant ding, and he stepped inside, pulling the hood down into his face, hiding from anyone while pushing the eight, round button on the wall. Tapping his foot, he bit his underlip. Was he just going to tell her to take it? But why, why would she take it? What was the reason he was going to give her. At his office, Mojo had handed him a couple of pictures, and for a second the blond couldn't believe his eyes. It had been his blue counterpart no doubt, yet he couldn't really believe it. It had captured a perfect picture of her blasting the head of a man, giggling like a maniac, followed by her beating someone furiously.

Sweet Bubbles could never do that, but he remembered something Him had told them way back, before they even considered slacking with the usage of their powers. The devil had told them that if they weren't careful and in control of what they were doing, the powers would evolve into something dangerous. The chemical-X was a highly reactive substance and if they were out of balance, it could cause them to explode or loose control. Boomer remembered – not exactly remembered; his brothers had told him after wards – a couple of times blacking out, waking up with his brothers worn out, beaten to the brink of death, laughing at his raw powers. He hadn't known what they had talked about, but laughed it off, not wanting to seem like a pussy.

Could that happen to the girls? Could they lose control of their powers, cave in to darkness and go on a rampage? Somehow, it seemed terrifying, and he shuddered at the thought. Could Bubbles go insane, sent into a killing spree? He had always been evil by birth, but what would it do to the girl? Would it make everything worse, living with knowing she had killed someone? Could Bubbles explode? What if she already was evil and enjoyed murder? Boomer didn't know how he felt about that, but the sinking feeling in his stomach couldn't be good.

The doors were almost close when a hand shoot through and grabbed, stopping it. The elevator opened to make way, and he glanced up at the hurried person. She had long, red hair, and he quickly hid away in the corner as her pink eyes blinked and went to him for a second. Boomer tried his best to hide his face, turning away. What the hell was Blossom doing in this place? The redhead went to push the eight button, before stopping, seeing it was already glowing.

«You're going to eight floor?» she asked, and he jumped for a second, forcefully pushing himself to the ground to not hover up to the roof. She couldn't find out it was him, or did she already know? He nodded his head fast, scared of speaking.

«Oh, that's neat, so am I. At what apartment number do you live?» she asked, turned to him. If he had been sweating before, it was nothing compared to now. Holy shit, she was going to find out if she got a chance to take a look at his face. Deepening his voice to not be recognized, he muttered a random number.

«818? Wow, isn't that funny. I live at 819.» Growling inwards, he cursed his own sloppiness. He sould have picked a lower number. «You could come over some time and get to know-» she halted on her words, eyes widen and mouth twitching. Her brows went from calm to highly terrified, and she bent forward, throwing up. Jumping back to avoid the orange, brown and red content, he felt shocked as he understood it was a mixture of her dinner and blood. The girl gave a high pitched scream before collapsing into the wall behind her and passing out.

Standing there like a mediocre civilian on a monster attack, he stared at her a couple of seconds and blinked rapidly as the elevator dinged, signalizing they had reached the floor of destination. Holy shit, what was he going to do? Just leave her there and make a run for it? She hadn't made any signs of recognizing him, and he needed it to stay that way. On the other hand, was she breathing? What if she had just died? Bubbles would never forgive him then. If he let Blossom die on him – without it actually being his fault – he could check of another person he had taken away from his counterpart. Why not crack Buttercup's scalp at the same time, he growled at himself before picking up the redhead. There was no way in hell he could just leave her on the floor like that.

«Fuck,» he cursed and went into the red hallway, trying to figure out what to do with the girl. Take her to the hospital? He could, but at the moment, the blond was having a panic attack and could only gather his thoughts around her magical number. Now where the fu- he sprinted to his right, reaching the 819th marked door. Knocking on it, the man again felt his brain be yanked out of his head as his counterpart opened. She looked like shit; hair standing everywhere, huge bags under her eyes and such pale skin. When was the last time she had seen the sun?

«Wha-» she managed before seeing Blossom. Eyes wide, breath going and coming in rapid motions, she backed a feet away, hands moving to her face to cover up a gasp.

«What happened?» she said, as her finger touched the redheads cheeks, trying to straighten her loose head. Pulling the both of them inside, she called out her sisters name, breaking the blond boys heart. She sounded so fragile, like her soul was falling apart.

«She collapsed in the elevator on the way up here,» he explained in a low voice. The girl was checking for a pulse, and relaxed a little as her sibling's chest heaved up and down. His counterpart grabbed the girl out of his hands and moved her out of his sight. He stood there awkwardly for a couple of seconds, weighting if he was going to stay or leave, but the girl returned before he got the chance to make up his mind.

«Looks like she'll be fine. It could just be food poisoning.» She didn't sound so sure herself as she said it, wrinkling her eyebrows while thinking back, trying to remember what could have caused it. «Anyway, thank you so much for taking her here. I don't know what I would have done if someone evil had found her.» And there it was, a dark glimpse at the corner of her eye, making him flinch. The blond snarled barely visible and he snapped after his breath quietly, getting a clear picture of how far she was willing to go. Goosebumps went up his arms as he felt his heart sink to his stomach. What could have caused the innocent Bubbles to become like this? Had she really killed someone?

«By the way.» Her sweet voice was back in place, startling him out of his deep thoughts. «Who are you?» Uh-oh. He was really in it now. Should he lie, keep telling the same joke he had told her sister? He had to, or else they would figure him out.

«Name's Max, i live next door,» he said, making sure to cover his eyes with his bangs. The room was so dark it wasn't a problem for him, as long as she didn't use her x-ray vision.

«Hey, Max. I'm Bubbles,» she chirped. At least, he thought so at first, but something was wrong. She didn't giggle. The girl didn't give him her hand to shake, and she wasn't still talking. «I, uh, have to go check on my sister. Thanks, again,» she said, pushing him out of the door. Right there was also strange, because Bubbles never removed her guests or told them to leave. She was open and a free spirit, always happy to help and be kept company. The door slammed on his face and he strolled away, taking the stairs. Maybe she would recognize him in aftermath, and he wasn't going to take that risk.

Zipping down the stairs and exiting the building, he placed his hands into the pockets of his jacket. His fingers brushed against something cold, and he stomped hard, making things slightly shake around him. Luckily, nobody were around to see. The blue boy had totally forgot to ask her to take the object. His mind had not been there at all with the redhead fainting out so randomly and the blond being so little like herself. Mojo was going to kill him.

Moving to the tight alley, he rose from the ground and coursed for back home. No use going back there, it would be too suspicious. He had ruined his chance of the day, but now that he knew where she was, he wouldn't have any problems getting back to her in the future. As long as she didn't move again. Picking up his found, he readied to call his brother. It was none of his business, but given the man cared for him, he could give him a slightly report of the incident.

It chimed a couple of times before his brother picked up, grunting at the other end.

«Yes, Boom?» Brick's raspy voice said. Had he been sleeping, or was he sick? The blond intended to make it short, but couldn't help the question on his lips.

«Are you all right?»

«No worries, bro. It's just something that-» he growled to himself, as if the memory was enough to agitate him; and knowing Brick, it probably was. «- it's nothing. Don't think about it. Why did you call?»

«Uhm,» feeling a little out of it, he blinked to regain his focus, the dark sky shining upon him with several thousand burning eyes. The brightness from the city under him had the boy halter a couple of seconds before pulling himself together. «I was at Bubbles right now. Blossom came in to the elevator at the same time as me. She started asking me stuff, but it didn't seem like she knew who I was, and before I knew it, she puked all over the floor.» A shiver went down his spine, feeling sorry for whoever was going to clean it up. «There wasn't just whatever she had eaten, but blood. Brick, there was a lot of blood.»

«What did you do with her?» Brick said, his clam and chilling voice reaching his ear. He could feel the clench of his jaw, and didn't exactly know what to make of it. Did his redheaded brother care for Blossom? It didn't sound right.

«She told me what the room number was before passing out, of course. So I took her there, not really sure if I was going to rush her to the hospital or anything.» The boy shrugged his shoulder, as if his sibling could see it. «What do you think?»

«No, you did good, Boom. Get back home. It's nothing to worry about,» the man at the other end said, and Boomer wasn't so sure. His brother sounded far away, like hid did when his mind was solving puzzles and making strategies. It meant he was only paying one third attention. _Brick knows what's going on_ , the blond thought. Before he could ask, the man hung up on him. Gritting his teeth, he went faster, reaching home just a couple of minutes later. Entering through the window, his feet touched the floor. He didn't really care if anyone saw his blue street. Most would dismiss it as a shooting star or airplane.

The light from the moon shone up a couple of pictures on the wall, and the blue boy remembered the exact date he had gotten them. Touching a painting of sunflowers, he remembered seeing the blond girl at the museum as she had handed her painting over for money. She had seemed so different today.

The blond didn't have to think long before he sighed, palm on his forehead. He let himself fall backwards, floating a feet over the floor, as if on a cloud. His blue, sad eyes fell on the melancholy moon and he felt something grow in his chest. Grabbing at the jacket, he tried to stop the increasing pain, but it didn't help. He gritted his teeth and moved his head to the side. All of this was his fault. The once glowing, pure girl was tainted with darkness, and all because he wasn't able to plant the object on her.

Taking it out of his pocket, he stared at the small, glass bottle. It had a funny, round shape with a small neck. Like a potion. It had a cap on the top. Turning it around in his hands, he saw something that caught his attention. It was so small, yet there. A small drop of black. In the short amount of time he had spent around her, it had managed to do it's job. She didn't have to wear it, he realized. A thought exploded in his head, and he quickly sat up, eyes as large as sausages.

Once again, he fished his phone out of his pocket and dialed another number. One he hadn't used in a very long time, but still had. The phone rang longer than the first time, but it got answered.

«Boomer, if you want anything, come downstairs. I don't have the time to be speaking to you on the phone just because you're too lazy to move your legs, and if you don't want to physically walk down here, you can always fly,» the grumpy voice of Mojo Jojo said.

«I need you to buy me something,» the blue boy said.

«Your counterpart, Bubbles, stopped publishing her pictures a long time ago, Boomer.» He already knew that, because it was all his dear father's fault. Swallowing the snarly comment, he went to the issue at hand.

«No, no. Not a picture. I need you to buy me an already in use apartment.» He could practically hear his father think, as the creaking seat was moved, the man taking a deeper seat in the chair.

«What apartment do you have in mind?» His father muttered under his breath, not very sure what to think of this. Specifying where he wanted one, he added inn the room number, 818. It had to be that room.

«And for what purpose am I spending my money on this for?» Mojo asked. Could he tell him? It was never a good idea to keep his father out of anything but personal affairs, and it was part of his mission, after all.

«It's for the commission you gave me.» The dark haired man used a couple of seconds to gather his thoughts around this mysterious request.

«It will be done by tomorrow.» And thus he hung up, not wishing is son a good night or muttering any word of departure at all. Things like that were too trivial and time consuming. Brick was the exact same way, but that didn't bother the blond man. He leaned back and stared at the shining, peaceful city. Boomer loved the night; where he could be himself and nobody were there to judge or watch. He would be in tranquility, floating around with no care in the world. Somehow, he didn't feel bad at nights, his regretful actions forgotten.

«I'm going to make everything right, Bubbles. Just you watch me.»

* * *

Buttercup was no longer annoyed. The morning had started with slight irritation from the itching, healing arms. In just over a week, she could move her fingers. Nurses came and went with her medication and food, telling her to slow down and not exhaust her resting muscles. That had been the first thing to ruin her day. The girl was making progress – without it hurting any more – only to get shot down and told to take it easier. Like hell she was going to stop. Hoping to get home earlier, she got too eager and moved too much, too rough. Pain shoot up her whole arm and shoulder, sending jolt of electricity to her brain. It had made her winch in pain, followed by an animalistic growl.

Curse the green ruff for sending her into this ill smelling place and boring room. There wasn't even music to listen to. Blossom was busy with her work – visiting her from time to time to bring cloths, helping her and keeping company, but never for long – and she had no idea where her blue sister was. Knowing the girl, she was probably dreaming away and painting her pictures. Buttercup was proud of her determent picture, but she could come here and release some of her boredom.

Shuffling around in her seat, the girl gritted her teeth. It really hurt, and she felt something had gone wrong inside her arms.

Once looking at the x-ray of her bones, the doctors had brought the news to her with a minor grim face. Being so good at reading people, the girl had instantly understood what it meant. The nurses could lie to Blossom all they wanted, but her arms only had a thirty-seven percent chance of healing back to normal, and that was with a sixty-four success chance operation. She had taken it straight away; not caring to think it through or get her sisters consent. She was twenty-fucking-two year old, and could make such a choice herself. It was her arms, and nobody but herself could tell her where the limit line was; and it certainly wasn't there.

It had been a success, all the nurses and doctors had celebrated, but she didn't feel like it. Trying to move the muscles, they had knocked her out with something to keep her from hurting herself. Apparently she had to keep totally still for two weeks, before even trying to move around. If the orders not heeded, it could cause terminal damage. After a couple of rounds with angry words and groggy sleep, she had managed to convince herself to take it down a notch, so they wouldn't pester her with their company and half worried mood.

When she got out of the hospital, Buttercup promised herself to never take any form for pills or injection anesthetic ever again. Were they trying to get her addicted to it? Sometimes it felt like it. Take four pills now and then, together with the buffet received at breakfast, brunch and dinner, she was rather tired of swallowing the hideous stuff.

It was something she protested on every time she saw the nurse coming, but it wasn't the only thing she hated about the place. It smelled weird, like old people and wet dogs, and there was nothing she could do about it. Not wander around, train, play games or get her energy out. That left Buttercup with only one thing she could do; sleep.

But after so long, even that didn't seem to work. She could only get ten minutes here and there, waking up with horrible pain from turning over, or the feeling of dropping through the air. Groaning, the girl turned to watch the sun set outside the window. Day, night, nothing mattered. It was her, the white walls and the bed. A guests chair was pulled up beside the bed, but even that one had gotten boring. She knew how what it looked like by heart.

Staring at the warm streaks she felt her eyes heavy. Doing nothing exhausted her. Lids heavy, she listened to her breath, felt her torso move up and down with her strong breath, and felt the blod surge through her body. It pulsated in her airs, stung in her eyes and a yawn worked it's way out. She promised herself to never sleep again when she got out. Well, maybe not forever, but at least not for the three next days.

Closing her eyes, she stared up into the darkness of possibilities. Memories and imagination swirled like a cinema on play, and she saw herself getting back to training, skateboarding, bicycling, climbing, playing soccer, basket, floor-ball, run, hit, roll, kick, fly. Her hands were glowing and she felt the pulse of chemical-X throughout her system, making her laugh. It was back! And the first thing she was gonna do, was kick that smug rowdyruff's arse.

Jolting awake after Butch had sent her flying with a kick to the ground, she stared wide eyed at the bright roof. The outside was dark, and only a tiny light from the window in the door streamed on to the floor, half way making the room glow. Sweat pearls ran down her forehead and she struggled to move for a second, before staring down on her immobilized body. Cursing as tears formed at the corner of her eyes, she kicked the bed the best she could, damaging her ribs in the process.

Buttercup gasped from the intense pain and for a split scenario, she gaped for air like a fish on dry land. Inhaling sharply, she managed to calm her body down, together with her freaked out mind. She felt trapped, unable to move her body, understanding how vegetabled people felt. It was horrible.

Calming down, she stilled in the bed. Everything was just so boring. The door slid slightly open and she saw two shadows on the ground. Probably the nurses going to drug her down for being restless. It wasn't quite so, the girl figured as Butch came in sight, followed by his blond brother. Boomer looked nothing like himself. Sure, he had always been small compared to the brute, but never so pale and tired before. Hissing, the puff glared.

«You've come to kill me?» Butch was calm, something unusual for him, and it sent her into a mad believing that he actually was. «I swear, if you fucking touch me-» the threat hung in the air as a hand stopped her from finishing the sentence.

«I'm not here to kill you, butterfly.» The pet name was something the green used when being half serious. Buttercup remembered how the man had called her it in a tiny moment on high school, straight after the incident. The ruff had seemed honestly sorry about it, and she had told him to back off, emotions raging with sadness and confusion; anger and blame toward herself for being incapable of preventing it.

A hand went through his hair, and Boomer stood there awkwardly, finding the wall rather interesting. Some things never changed; they were the spit images of themselves, like they had been their entire life. Butch had always been taller and bigger than the blue boy, and Boomer was his abnormal, unpleasant self.

«Boomer is here to fix your broken arms.»

«What?» she said, eyes darting from head to head, looking for the taunting stare. Neither had one, and she went in for a glare. It had to be a trick. «And why would he do that?»

«Because he owes me one, but it's not going to be free.» Crossing his arms over his beef chest, the girl gritted her teeth. Getting out of her early was so tempting, but Butch was going to ask something impossible of her. Making her do something she would regret her whole life, or something even worse.

«And exactly what do you want in return?» the woman growled. If she could, she would tackle him and strangle the smug smirk on his face. How she hated the ruff.

«I want you to come and work for me.»

«I was,» she snarled. «But you just had to go and get me fired.» He prowled over to her, his feet making no sound on the blank floor. Despite his size, he had always been a great athletic, and if living a couple of hundred years back, made an excellent thief. Taking the chair beside her bed, like he had done all weak – expect for that very day- , constantly peeking in and visiting her, the girl tilted her head and glared.

«Besides, it's your fault I'm in this place.» He folded his fingers together, leaning back in the chair. The way his muscles relaxed, made her wonder if he had been working out all day. So many days at the gym, she could recognize the soreness of muscles.

«Na, you did that to yourself,» he grimaced, as if not even believing it himself. Not that he was going to admit it was his fault; he was built just like her. Stubborn and difficult. «Do you even know your own limits?» he said, a dark look shoot her way under his brows. It set a fire in her going and she wormed down in the bed and kicked him straight in the face. She could feel it hurting, but so was he. Stumbling backwards, he sent her a death glare, rising his arms, ready to jump her. A hand fell upon his shoulders, holding him back. Brothers locked eyes for a few seconds, before the green ruff calmed down, hissing. Her foot was throbbing, but she felt good for the first time in days. If the kick had hurt him like that, it meant her powers were returning. That explained her semi quick recovery on her own.

«I want you to work for me,» the green man said, standing away from her. He wasn't scared; Butch wasn't scared of anything and laughed danger up in the face, his battle cry sounding something like 'to Valhall!'. The only reason he put distance between them, was so he could come there and get his business over with without strangling her. It didn't make her more cooperative.

«You spilled your chance, bitch,» Buttercup spat, but it only wrapped a smirk on his face. In a quick movement, he wrapped his fingers around her small, delicate neck. He wasn't squeezing, moving or hurting her. The green ruff was just making sure she understood that he was capable of doing it.

«I will pay better than the bar,» he whispered, forest green orbs locking with lime ones. Her tan skin was smooth under his touch, breath tickling her cheek. «It will be a job with physical movements, and you get to beat people up.»

«I'm not turning in to a villain, like you,» she growled, hair standing at end. He softly placed his forehead on hers, sending a small spark between them. She gritted her teeth at their touch, not sure what to make of it. If it hadn't been for her disability, she would grab his collar and beat the living shit out of him. How dared he touch her so casually? Like they were friends!

«It's no one good, just bad people.» The girl snorted.

«You fancy yourself as one of the good guys now?»

«Na, no,» he muttered, eyes wandering over her face. He noticed a couple, not many, freckles on her cheeks. They were barely visible, camouflaging against her light maroon skin. «I'm the bad guy, but the job isn't like that.»

«Man, you're making no sense.»

«Not right now, maybe.» He leaned into the side of her head, whispering into her ear. «Besides, if I don't get what I want, I will make sure to let it go out on your sisters. Visit sweet, little Bubbles, disturb Blossom at work. Who knows, accidents does happen.» Widening her eyes, Buttercup started tossing around, trying to bite him. The man pulled away, a neutral facial expression.

«Don't you fucking dare ever think about touch them!» She yelled, eyes shining with the seven hells wrath. Shrugging his shoulders, trying to hide a smirk without actually trying, he rose an eyebrow at her.

«If you join me, Boomer here will fix the damage, and I will leave your sisters alone, forever.» Wetting her lips, Buttercup didn't have to think long before making up her mind. Setting her sisters in danger? Out of the question. She would find a way around this. Bowing her head a little forward, she hissed out a 'fine'. Nodding his head, the blue man moved up to the side of the bed. Lifting his arms over the plaster, she saw his hands faintly glow. It felt warm around her arms, and increased until she flinched. It felt like her hand was on fire, moving, bending and wriggling, blood boiling and stinging. Luckily, it turned into a numbness, and before long, she sighed as it filled her with new found energy. The man moved his hands down to his sides, and proceeded to move to the other side. She stared at her fingers as they moved with ease, not hurting.

A smile broke into her face as the boy worked on the other arm. He took a few moments to ease the pain in her stomach, before moving away, staring at his brother.

«It's done.»

«Good, you may leave,» Butch nodded, and his brother didn't stick around to be asked twice, hurling out the door. They listened to his steps disappear before the man moved up to her bed side and watched as she struggled to get out of the hard house around her arms. Glancing at him between her flexing, she was not going to degrade herself to ask him for help. No way. He could go fuck himself.

«Didn't visitation hours close some time back?» she said, not being able to stand the silence and his amused grin.

«What, you really think I asked for permission to come here?» he gave her a long look, and she rolled her eyes. _Of course not._ Butch never asked for anything unless he had to, and even then he would take it if receiving a negative answer. Exactly like he had just done. She pushed her hand in and out, trying her best to make some kind of break in the hard material. It didn't falter under her toil.

«So what kind of work are you going to set me to?» she asked, talking away the embarrassment of her currently state. If only she had her powers, she could blast the stupid thing apart, followed by his stupid presence.

«Think of it as a guard dog job. I call for you when I need someone to kick someone's ass, and you do it.» Rolling her eyes, she started banging her hands together, hoping they would crush each other.

«That's the lamest thing I've ever heard.» A thought flickered and she sent him a very confident smirk. «So the big bad Butch needs someone to do his work for him?» She laughed loud, and raw. The man _tsk_ ed.

«The dirty work, you whore.» Butch laughed as she kicked at him again, this time expecting it, and easily dodged out of the way.

«Go fuck yourself, asshole,» She said, and moved out of bed, after him. Her hair was standing on ends and her eyes flustered with fire and fighting spirit.

«I'm handsome enough for it, but I'd rather do you,» the man winked and her face turned a new shade of red. Charging him, she moved her hand backwards, turning her whole body in the process and losing balance, tumbling and crashing with the floor. The man laughed while holding his stomach, and Buttercup kept still, hiding her red face from embarrassment. Stupid stuff, stupid Butch, stupid hospital. Where was her powers when she needed them? Why was this happening to her? Frustrated, she felt tears at the corner of her eyes. Remembering the idiot, she quickly shook them off and scrambled to get up. Her stiff arms wasn't much to help, but her strong legs managed it with some difficulties.

Bored, or maybe tired of the joke, Butch grabbed a hold of her stiff arm and lifted her up in one quick movement. She pulled it to herself and he let her, hissing at him like a cat seeing a dog.

«I don't need your help!»

«I can see that,» he muttered, eying her up and down. Groaning to himself, he took a grip of the hard material around her arms, and squeezed. She whimpered low in pain and kicked after him, demanding to know what he was doing. Butch felt it snap, then moved lower, doing it all the way out to her hand while fighting off the enraged banshee. Done, he drew it off her hand, the girl studying the incoming bruises, but stopped fighting him and let him do it on the other side. They were silent as he worked, and she only twitched her eyes from the brute force he displayed. If only she had her powers, she wouldn't have needed him to he- oh, hold that thought. There was no way Butch was helping her; he was simply assisting her. A very small portion of assisting, she told herself.

The silence was kind of good, like a truce, and finishing his arm, he went for her chest. She back stepped and held a hand up.

«No way. These are just bandages, I can do them myself.» Shrugging, he folded his arms over his chest and leaned against a wall. His eyes watched her work, and she turned away from him, feeling a light flush creep up. God damn pervert.

«I'm going home,» she muttered and packet her things together, not sure if to thank him for the healing and hel- assistance. Deciding against it, she placed a pack with her cloths over her shoulder. Her muscles were stiff from the stillness the last week, but it definitely felt good to move around. As young, she had spent a couple of days there to completely heal up after fighting the boys. The professor had been very persistent on it.

«I can take you there, it's quite a long walk,» the ruff said, and she glanced at him from over her shoulders. How the hell did he know where she lived? Shaking her head, she opened the door and entered the hallway. It was a miracle with all their screaming and banging that none of the nurses had come around to stop them. The white walls were empty, and a chill went down her spine. She hated hospitals.

«You sure, because I don't min-»

«Why are you doing this?» she whirled around, staring him straight in the eyes. She couldn't understand him. In one moment, he was calling her a whore and being is usual, exhausting self, and in the next, he tried to be a pussy with his concern and out of place worry. Worried and concerned wasn't the description of Butch. He was the opposite. Butch didn't care for others, let alone his arch nemesis. The man wasn't making any sense, taking her to the hospital, paying for her bills, now wanting to take her home; at the same time insulting and hurting her. What the hell was going on? What was he up to?

Shrugging his shoulders, she groaned and went back to her walking. Once an idiot, always an idiot. Like hell she was going to let him take her home.

«Suit yourself,» he snorted and went the other way. Probably a quick exit, she figured. The green girl herself had to check out, if she didn't want any more bills. It was dark and warm, but creepy. People were sleeping on the other side of the doors she passed, and she couldn't seem to notice any nurses on the way, and good was that. They might try to convince her to get back to bed. Snorting, she found the entrance and the check in point. A lonely woman was sitting there, har hand on a cup of coffee. Her dark orbs scanned the computer for something.

«Hey,» Buttercup said as she leaned over the counter. The asian woman stared up from the screen and blinked a couple of times before staring down at her file. Her green orbs managed to notice a picture of herself before it was quickly closed.

«Oh, uh, shouldn't you be in bed?» The woman stared at her arms, and Buttercup groaned.

«No, they're fine. I'm checking out.»

«You- I- No. At best, you need to rest for two months, seven more weeks,» the woman blinked rapidly.

«Listen. I don't like hospitals, I'm fine, and I don't need to stay here any more, so check me out.» Opening and closing her mouth, she drew a deep breath out of her nose before ripping off a blank piece of paper, scribbling something on it.

«I understand,» she said while handing her it. Glancing on it, the girl noticed it was a number. She quickly placed in her inside pocket of the jacket. «If anything happens, the arms starts hurting or you're having difficulties breath; call the number and don't hesitate to come back.» She typed on the computer, and turned it to show Buttercup she was written out of the system as healthy.

«Thanks,» the brunette nodded and left, hoping to never return again, even if it meant her life.

* * *

 _Alright! That's chapter 4! Hope it didn't go too slow or was too boring. I understand there might be a slow romance involved, but please consider that the puffs and ruffs actually hate each other. Would you hook up with someone you hate, days or a week after you met again? I know I wouldn't._

SweetAngel98: Thank you for the review! No, I don't mind at all. I'm happy people make me aware of my mistakes so I can fix them for later readers, or rereaders. And you're honestly not being blunt, rude or anything of that sort. It inspires me to be better and watch out more carefully. So thank you so much for everything; reading, reviewing and helping me progress.

BlueScarlet465: Hehe, your comment had me laughing and smiling. Thank you so much for leaving one. I hope it's not too frustrating to read, but I promise everything will become clearer into further chapters. Thank you for reading and reviewing; it warms my heart.

FangirlingIsMyHobby: To be fair, it's just the third chapter, the ruffs and puffs hate each other like always, and they've really not given each other any reason to fall in love. Brick doesn't care, simply because he doesn't care. Bubbles is isolating herself, and Buttercup, well yeah, something caused her to loose her powers. I hope this isn't too agonizing to read, and that you hate it. Thanks for the review and faithful read. I understand if it's not good enough for you, but I hope you will keep reading with this in mind.

OLOLOLOLO: Hey, thanks for returning to the story! And thank you so much for those kind words! It is nice to hear people appreciating my work. I'm glad you like it, and hope the rest lives up to your expectations.

A big thanks to DiaXDao14 for following this story and adding it to your favorite. And a special thanks to all the silent readers out there; you're all awesome! Cheers!

 **Comment a lot and I will update fairly fast! Until next time.**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5. Suspicious Behavior

Blossom felt groggy. She didn't know if her eyes were open, or if she just couldn't see beyond the hazy clouds surrounding her. It felt like she moved around and saw, but at the same time she felt trapped inside her head, only able to thinks. Her arms, feet, body – even head – felt so heavy. As if something was holding her down. Grunting, she twisted to try and see something besides fog.

 _This is all Bricks fault_ , a snarling voice whispered. It echoed around, like a ghost in a long forgotten mansion. Filled with an unknown rage, she tried to see the intruder. Nothing but endless of blur came before her.

«What's Bricks fault? Who are you? Where am I?» she called out and felt another jolt of sickness. For a second, it was hard to breathe, and she felt something soft on her back. Her insides were hurting. Everything was hurting. Was this how Buttercup felt at the hospital after Butch had hit her? Blossom hadn't been in a fight for a very long time, several years, and the unknown feeling startled her. She didn't like it.

 _The reason you're feeling so weak right now. The reason you're back in Townsville, drowning in work you don't even want to perform, is because of that Jojo. He's the fault to all of this. If he wasn't around, everything would be great._ It stung in her head from the words, but her heart acknowledged them. She could feel it down to her very core that this was how she felt. Blossom hated Brick, and everything he stood for.

Was he the cause of this? She wondered, feeling a wave of dizziness hit her. Again, it was hard to breath, and again she felt the strong sensation of something on her back. Suddenly, something dark came toward her in the haze. It was hard to see what it was at first, but then it shrunk, formed, and she saw the silhouette of a person. Darkness became skin, and the hair was swaying in the windless landscape.

Blossom felt her eyes widen as she came face to face with herself. Feeling herself gape, she blinked to try and understand what this was. A mirror? There were no edges or clarity. Not a window either. One thing was for certain, it was her reflection.

«Who are you?» she heard her voice far away say. The projection giggled and she noticed how the eyes were off. It wasn't her bright, pink ones. These were magenta, while hers were a lighter shape, like bubblegum. Thinking about it, so was her hair, held up in a ponytail; a shade darker than hers, but brighter than Bricks.

 _I'm you_ , the voiceless girl spoke. It creeped her how the mouth didn't move, but she could clearly hear the voice.

«That's not possible,» Blossom said. _We're inside your head_ , the other girl explained, moving her hands around, as if patting something invisible. The confusion must have shone through, because the girl rolled her eyes, clearly impatient. _I'm the strong part of you, the survivability._

«But how can you be a person, standing in front of me like this?» she muttered, staring up and down, embarrassing herself. The girl didn't wear anything, and as she looked away, she noticed she wasn't either. Yelping, she tried to cover herself up. The other girl laughed, hands on hips. She didn't feel modest at all.

 _You don't need to hide anything. I've seen it all, been there through it all. With every guy, even when you've been by yourself._ She suggestively arched an eyebrow.

«Because that's not stalking,» the girl muttered, face heated. _Yes_ , the other girl moved around on the spot, restless. _Everything was so much easier before Brick came along_. No denying that, Blossom figured and found herself nodding in agreement. Everything had been several notches easier. She only needed to please people at work, at normal working hours, and came by just as easy with what she had. The girl didn't have to go through the frustration the redheaded ruff gave others in his never ending quest to bother people, nor live with the constant nostalgia seeping through, melancholy dragging her down and worrying about these villeins doing something to her sisters. Butch had already proven he was capable of hurting her green sibling, and she didn't even dare thing what would happen to poor Bubbles if they came close to her. The poor girl was too pure for the likes of them.

 _We should kill him_ , the purring, soundless voice said, making her glance up from her wandering thoughts. She felt her eyes widen slightly from the sudden outburst. The other girl, or rather her other self, didn't seem faltered, and acted as if they talked about cute boys on a saturday night.

«I ca- wha- Uh, what?» she said, collecting her thoughts barely enough, before another wave of pain hit her, making her flinch. It wasn't just her stomach, but her muscles, nerves, brain. As if everything was on fire. No, as if embers were trying to drill out of her. Tears streamed to her face, and she could faintly hear someone curse, or was it crying? The world around her was too hazy.

Pulling together and trying to hold on to not explode, the redhead found herself crying. It was something she hadn't done in little over six years. A warm hand landed on her head, making the agony slightly subside. Staring up at the those magenta eyes, she felt a finger brush away those tears.

 _Shh_ , it whispered. _I'm here for you. Don't you worry, Blossom, I will keep you alive and fight that bastard back_. Unconsciously, she leaned in closer for the safe comfort.

«Why is this happening?» she sobbed. A faint sigh caught her ear, and she stared into those dark, pink orbs. They had so many answers, hidden. She couldn't understand what she was trying to tell her. At that point, she realized this was her subconscious, and indeed her survivability. This was the person she had been, stone cold leaving Townsville and abandoning her feelings, digging herself further and further into work. It had created this.

B _rick did this. He's creating something powerful, dangerous and unwindable. The moron thinks he's got it under control, but he's too stubborn to see the truth. If we don't stop him, he might do this to our siblings. They might not be able to survive._ They shared a sad expression, both thinking about sweet Bubbles, and the raging Buttercup. The blue girl was sensitive to pain, and couldn't stand much of it, but the green girl; whatever this was, it would hurt her in some way. Physical or mental.

 _But I think you've been gone for long enough now_ , the girl grinned and flickered her forehead with her index finger.

«Blossom?» a voice far away said, and the matured redhead grabbed the pink eyed one. She gave her a long stare, and her grip hurt around her wrists, as if scared she would drop six feet under if letting her go. _Whatever happens, you cannot tell Brick about this, or your sisters. He will destroy you and everyone you care for._

«Blossom, are you there?» It was a puny echo, so low and petite. It rang with fear and shook her insides. Realizing she was about to wake up, she nodded her head, more confused than ever.

«Hey, Blossom!» the voice jolted her awake, and she rose, snapping for her breath. Sweat was dripping down her forehead and she gulped air, feeling as if it had been years since she had last breathed. Blinking a couple times, she stared down at her own hands. They were dressed, and she saw the white sofa under her. This was Buttercups apartment. When had she ended up there? What was the last thing happening? Everything was so out of place. Blossom faintly remember leaving work, and getting home. Not exactly home, more like parking the car and entering the building. She had taken the elevator. Winching a little, she grabbed her head and saw the image of a man beside her. He wasn't talkative, and she had asked because he apparently was headed to the eight floor. Then.. Then what? Red filled her vision, and she chocked on her breath. There had been blood.

«Oh, Blossom! You're awake. Finally, I was so scared, I didn't know what to do. I've been wandering around and I couldn't sleep because you stopped breathing from time to time, and then you randomly puke and oh, god. There was blood, and I didn't know what to do. Buttercup said to take you to the hospital, but I couldn't move you or wasn't sure if it was such a good idea,» Bubbles ranted on, and she stared at her sibling. The girl was terrified.

«Hey, hey, hey.» Her big sister instincts kicked in, and she moved to hug the blond. She was shaking, but it stopped straight away with the contact. Nausea came over her, and she pulled away, vomit already on it's way up her throat.

«Here,» a bucket came just in time under her as she opened her mouth and emptied her stomach content. It hurt, and stomach acid made her cough. Once the flow stopped, she was handed a glass of water. Wasting no time, she gulped it down. The cold and calm stream had her tired, and she stared up at her green sibling. A smile barely graced her face before she came to understand what she was seeing.

«Why the hell are you home?» Her brows went down and she gave an angry stare.

«See, I told you she'd be fine straight away,» Buttercup said, moving to empty the bucket into the toilet. «You're welcome, by the way,» she threw over her shoulder.

«No, Buttercup! You have to stay in the hospital until-» her sister returned and waved with her arms, giving her a sour look.

«Until my arms are fine again? Well, surprise. They are just fine.» Closing and opening her mouth, she felt a soft stroke against her back. Bubbles was sitting beside her, head on shoulder. The girl seemed lost and scared, so she placed a hand on her hair, patting and moving her hand through the softness. The bucket, a small amount of water in the bottom, was placed in front of her. She stared down at herself, seeing her cloths had changed.

«What ha-happened?» She muttered, Buttercup sitting on her other side. The green girl handed her the glass once more and ordered her to drink more. With a side glance, not very happy with the command, she took a few more sips, feeling how they helped straight away. Buttercup leaned on her knees and stared at the wall opposite the room before speaking.

«Butch came to the hospital yesterday night. He brought Boomer along,» the blond girl stiffened at the name, but didn't look up from her tight grip around the older girls arm. The green girl didn't seem to notice this, but it had Blossom arch an eyebrow slightly. Unusual behavior for her sister. «I had no idea, but the blond pussy has some wicked healing powers. He healed my arms up and I came home, after checking out from the hospital.» A hand went through her short hair, and Blossom sensed something was off. What was this? Both her sisters seemed distressed. When had it happened? How come she hadn't noticed before now?

«When I came home, Bubbles had you in the bathroom on all floor over the toilet. I've never seen anyone puke that much their entire life.»

«Buttercup,» Blossom softly spoke, and the girl met her eyes. If it was something her sister had, it was guts. She could stare anything in the eyes without falter or finch. Buttercup was the ultimate, badass predator.

«I don't know what happened to you, but you were so bad. So pale and there wasn't just vomit. You-» her voice broke and the girl averted her gaze, for the first time in their life; Buttercup didn't try to stare Blossom down, and that scared her more than anything ever could have. «You were puking up blood. I didn't know what to do at first. Bubbles was crying like a river, trying to calm you down, but you didn't seem like you could respond. I tried to get in contact with you. I snapped my fingers, called out to you, tried to cause a reaction with physical measures – sorry about the bruise on your arm -» she quickly added, and placed her head into her hands, shoulders stiff up into her ears. «But nothing I did seemed to get through, so I told Bubbles I had to take you to the hospital. I don't really have the economy to do so, but you were in a seriously bad shape.»

«I understand,» Blossom said, moving an arm around her shoulders and softly placing it on her head. She was the tallest of them, and it made hugging easier if she had her hands up like that. They had always done it, from when they had been toddlers.

«However, I never got that far. That's when you grabbed a hold to me, and said to not do it. You said you would be fine, and only needed to rest a little. Don't ever do that again. You scared the living shit out of me,» the brunette growled her straight up in the face, tears streaming down her cheeks. Baffled for a couple seconds, she hugged her sisters tight.

«I'm sorry I scared you guys.»

«You stopped breathing,» Bubbles squeaked beside her, low, barely audible. She picked herself up and Blossom got a good look of that tired face. It looked like the blond hadn't slept in dace, nor eaten she concluded as she saw the cheek bones sticking out. It stung. Bubbles was like a walking corpse.

«Bubbles?» the redhead said, but the blond was lost in her own head. Her eyes seemed distant, lifeless. It sent a shudder down her spine.

«Several times, you stopped breathing. I watched as your chest became still for minutes. I counted my heartbeats, and just when I thought I had lost you, a jolt went through your body, as if fighting death off, but that didn't make it easy. You died over fifteen times, sis. I counted the seconds, which became longer and longer, and for the last one, you went pale and was gone for ten minutes. We called out for you, and you jolted awake.»

«Bubbles, I'm so sorry.» She didn't really know what she was apologizing for. The logical reason would be because she had caused her sisters pain and suffering, and she was feeling truly remorseful because of it. Gripping the both of them close, she heard the both of them cry. Buttercup was trying to be silent, while Bubbles was bawling her eyes out. So different, yet so alike, she thought, a soft smile on her lips. In the aura of relief and solace, she vowed to herself in silence to never distress her sister like this, ever again.

She slightly remembered the odd dream. Could her illness really be Bricks fault? What had he done to her to make her become like this? Her eyes became dark. Would he do it to her sisters? Oh, he could try. If he dared come close to them, she would kill him.

Her stomach growled, and she took a glance at the clock on the wall. It was almost five in the morning, and the sun outside was barely touching the air. At the sound of her own, both the girls' stomached started growling. They straightened up, a red hue on their cheeks. Blossom giggled, and Buttercup scuffed before joining the wholeheartedly laugh of the blond.

«I'll make something for us to eat,» the blond straightened up together with the brunette.

«I-»

«Will stay in bed,» both her sisters said in union and pushed her into the back of the sofa. A small pout was all she managed as they left her there. Not giving up that easily, she tried to lift herself up to go after them, but found it futile. Her head was spinning and her muscles were sore from the hard physical trauma she had received.

Blossom was in a pinch. She had to get to work to not be in debt to the blasted Jojo's, but her body wasn't living up to it. No batter what, she felt so weary and tired. Being one to never give up in any kind of situation, she started by breathing deep, followed by moving around, sitting. Clench and unclench her fists, she felt the strong power beneath surge. It felt odd; as if her powers had slightly returned. Could this be because of her other self? Shaking her head, Blossom decided to not go there. She was not crazy; and did not have several personalities. She was herself, one person, strong in will and body. As the leader of the powerpuffs, she had faced many difficult situations, and always came out of them as victorious. This wasn't going to be any different.

Drawing a deep breath, she pushed herself of the couch. Whirling for a couple of seconds, she found her balance and moved slowly, making sure she was in control the whole trip. If she felt a wave of uneasiness, she waited a couple of seconds to regain herself. It worked like a charm, and not before long had she managed to catch up to her sisters in the kitchen, sliding down on the chair.

Both stared up as she entered, but neither went to her aid; knowing the redhead needed to do it on her own. When she found the chair, Buttercup flashed her a grin and Bubbles giggled at her, cheering. They made smalltalk while making food, nothing big; mostly nostalgic throwbacks. Time ticked by as they sat down and ate, chatted and generally enjoyed each others company. It had been some time since last time.

«I have to go to work,» Blossom said, her sisters snapping their heads in her direction. She felt the surge of the incoming arguments, and held up a hand to prevent it from bursting the bubble. Bubbles quickly caught her tongue, but Buttercup slapped her hand away with feisty eyes.

«Like fucking hell you are,»

«Language,» the redhead glared before sighing. «I have to get to work. I can't miss it at any cost.»

«This is Brick Jojo! You don't even like him!»

«And that's why I have to go. I signed a contract a couple of months back. It's going to last for a year, and I can't break it. If I miss any day at work without a doctors consent, I owe them hundred thousand for each passing day,» she stared her sisters straight in the eye while talking, making sure her words came through.

«hundre- That's madness!» Buttercup slammed her fists on the table, gritting her teeth. A vein popped out on her forehead. She was angry. It didn't last for long as she groaned and slapped her forehead. «Butch pushed me into working with him yesterday. He said he'd hurt you guys if I refused. That bastard isn't one to make empty threats.» The redhead nodded, and Bubbles stared helplessly between her sisters. She wanted desperately to help, but she couldn't contribute with anything.

«They're up to something foul, but I don't know what just yet.» Placing a finger thoughtfully on her chin, they both stared at the blond, waiting for worse news. The girl waved her hands.

«I haven't seen Boomer yet. Not at all.»

«Good. That is good,» the redhead nodded and stared at the square clock on the wall. It was almost seven. She had to get off to work, or Brick wouldn't be pleased. He had been in a rather bad mood whole week. It wasn't like her first day when he mocked her way of doing things and arguing with her; no, this had been something deep. He had scoffed, barked at her, growled at her every movement and generally been a pain in the royal behind.

«I have to get to work. Could any of you drive me?» she muttered, and the green girl volunteered straight away, explaining she needed to get out more because of the hospital. They went to clean up, but the blond said she could take it. Blossom used her time to get dressed; refusing any kind of help, both offered and handed. Hugging her blond sister one last time, they left for the elevator. It dinged as they went to push the button. The door came apart and Buttercup almost ran straight into a man. He quickly moved away and she stared at him.

«Uh, I'm sorry,» he muttered and moved past them.

«Not so fast,» the lime girl growled and placed a hand on his shoulder, turning him around. She studied the brown haired man with brown eyes. Despite the colors, something seemed familiar about him. The girl squinted her eyes and studied him closer. He tried to push away as best he could, visibly unpleasant.

«Buttercup?» Blossom called out, coming up to them. She stared at the man, before her mouth opened slightly.

«You're the one from yesterday.» A bright smile came upon her face. «You live next door. I met you in the elevator on the way up.» The pink hue on her cheeks had her smile brighter. «I think you saved my life.»

«You live next door? Which number?» Buttercup said, eyes suspicious. She knew every face in the whole block, but this one she had never seen before.

«818, wasn't it?» Blossom said, thinking back. It sent an unpleasant feeling down her spine to remember the puking and fainting.

«I, uh-» he didn't get further as the blond girl came running down the hallway, something jingling in her hand.

«Buttercup, you forgot the keys,» the girl smiled, and Blossom noticed the man staring at her little sister. Something in those eyes took her slightly aback. Happiness, peace, but at the same time, sadness and.. She stared and could only categorical it as remorse. Did he know Bubbles? She didn't get to ask him as the blond came up to them.

«Oh, you're Max,» she smiled and he swallowed before nodding, pulling the hood on his head further down his face. _Suspicious_ , the redhead thought. If it hadn't been for the little time they had, she would stay to ask more questions. A thought popped up in her head.

«You do live in 818, right?» she asked, and the man nodded his head, lowering his chin as best he could without drawing attention. It went over her sisters heads, but Blossom was an expert in reading body language, thanks to her current boss. Brick had been a devil at those in high school before she moved. Somehow, he took great pleasure in taunting her.

«Max? I've never met you,» Buttercup said, closing her arms over her chest. «Jillian and Glen lives in 818.»

«They moved out around, eh, a week ago?» he said, and the brunette growled at him.

«I don't think-»

«We don't have the time, Buttercup. The man isn't going any where, we'll be back,» Blossom interrupted and dragged her sister into the elevator and pushed the number one button. The brunette threw out threats at the boy, and he backed away as the doors shut.

«And don't you dare talk to my sister!» the girl growled, and Blossom smiled. Somehow, she felt Max wasn't who he said he was; but he didn't feel sinister either. She would know, she worked with sinister every day.

* * *

Butch left his car seat and turned around to fetch his underling. Leaving home had been no problem, and for some reason he had been very restless that night. Where to start with Buttercup? Due to him, she couldn't blast things up like he normally would have asked of her. It had him wonder if the girl was anything without her powers, and the green ruff understood where to start. He was going to test her.

«Oh, hell no,» he heard the puffs voice and a smirk came upon his face. This. This right here pleased him. Nothing felt as good as an annoyed Buttercup in the morning.

«Butterfly,» he turned toward the raging girl. How convenient. He didn't have to go inside to get her. She was moving away from a green and black car. Holding a whistle back, he decided she had horrible taste in men, but her car taste was almost perfect. The man wasn't about to think anything about the girl was perfect.

«What the hell are you doing here?» she growled, making his inner brute want to tackle her over and fight, like they had done as children. She set him on fire in a way no other girl could.

«I'm here to pick you up,» the ruff gestured toward his own car, sending her a very charming smile. Barely noticing it, she softened as she saw his ride. _Damn straight_ , the man thought. It purred like a kitty on catnip.

«Why the fuck would you do that?» she turned a stone cold face at him, making the green ruff barely snort. The girl could try, but he would never be intimidated by her. Specially not after her losing her powers; not that he had ever been.

«Do you know where we're going?» Crooking an eye her way, she opened her mouth to talk back, but those soft lips slowly shut as she averted her gaze, making his ego grow bigger than mount Everest.

«Didn't think so,» he softly spoke and gestured again toward the car, walking off without waiting for her. Taking the seat in the front, he leaned over and opened the side door, blinking at her. A dangerous growl left her throat, but she sat down and folded her arms in a pout. Leaving the parking spot, he zipped down the streets, breaking some of the laws on the way to impress her. She wasn't amused, and commented on his reckless with annoyance; which he didn't mind at all. Anything ruining her day, pleased him.

«Where are we going?» she said, elbow in the window while staring at the bypassing buildings, people and objects. Her eyes didn't land long enough to register anything, and she seemed lost in thought, trying to make a mental map of the possibility with their coordinates. He turned unexpected, seeing as her brows furrowed further. It wasn't really the way he was going, but seeing how hard she tried, he couldn't help himself from fucking up her system. If Buttercup was capable of having one.

«You'll see.» A mischievous smirk on his mouth, a naughty gleam in his eyes. Her face was the base description on how irk looked like, moving so she couldn't see him with her peripheral vision. There was so many other things she could be doing now, like getting an actual job. Or find Ace and beat the shit out of him until he gave her her well earned savings back, powers or not.

In her spite, they didn't get to talk any more, and he was fine with it. The girl screamed enough from before, so a little peace and quiet would be great before her shitstorm was aimed for his head; because it was inevitably coming. She was going to flip when knowing what they were going to do, and he almost couldn't hold himself in excitement. How he loved to nag and bother her.

When they were back on track, he could see her mind working to process the landscape. Ten minutes before arriving, she glared furiously at him, but he ignored her. She didn't really have any say in it, and he was in a position to do exactly what he wanted; and not what she. The green puff wasn't stupid, she already knew this; thus held her razor sharp tongue.

He took off the highway and into a lone wasteland, it only took them five minutes to reach the house, a lush wood in bottom of the tall mountains. It was an oasis in the desert, hidden and beautiful. Soft grass was swaying in the wind and he parked at the large house, stopping the engine. The ruff exited the car, whistling at the incredible sight; it had two floors, with large windows and a soft brown color. The girl was stiff in her seat, refusing to move.

«This is not happening. Take me home,» she said, glaring at him. Unlike jet fuel, her eyes could melt steel beams. He bent over to stare at her twisted face. Oh, it took all her self control to not go at him he took notice from her shaking body. This was going to be so much fun.

«No can do. We're staying here for the next week. It will take you days to get home on foot, not that I'll let you leave. So make use for the next ten minutes to tell your sisters, because that's all I'm giving you,» he said, closing the door with a soft, but stern slam. It was enough to prove a point, but not to damage the lovely vehicle. A shriek came from the girl and he inhaled deeply through his nose. Oh, yeah. It was a wonderful morning.

Butch saw the green gang working on the back side, Ace pointing and the rest three ran around and put up stuff. Given the man had received his order early in the morning, he was rather pleased with their quick movement. Stalking up to them, he stood beside the black haired adult. He was half a head taller, and three times so beef, but that didn't bother either of them. They went way back, and Butch was never going to admit it, but he had something like respect for Ace.

«Morning, boss,» the man said without turning his head, and Butch nodded in greeting.

«I've seen you've already started working on what I asked of you. Good job.» Placing a hand on the tiny shoulder for a couple of seconds, he went back to the car, deciding the ten minutes were already up.

«I can't help it!» He heard Buttercup say, and went around the car as she kept saying it wasn't her fault and accusing him.

«Time's up,» he said while opening the door and snapping the phone out of her hand. The girl went from shock to anger in under a second, and jumped out of the car to get it back, snarling at him. While she was out, he used the opportunity to close the door and lock the car. Didn't want her inside it with such a bad temper. The girl could damage something.

«Give that back, you fucking jerk!»

«B-buttercup?» it said softly in the other end, and he pressed the end call button. Holding it over his head, he had her banging on his chest, and it felt rather sad from those kitten paw slaps. Somehow, a powerless green puff was rather boring. She couldn't fly, shoot lasers at him, land a real punch and she could break under his touch.

«Now,» he spoke, ignoring her attempts to get the phone back. «We're going to stay here for a week, and train you.» Haltering, she stared blankly up at him. Now that sure got her attention.

«As you're now, I can't even feel your punches, and I wonder if you're anything special without them, Butters.» Blushing a deep crimson, he saw the curse forming on her tongue as she gritted her teeth at him. Narrowing her orbs, the girl made a sound he couldn't exactly place. It was a mixture of a hiss and growl.

«Right, boss. We're done with putting up the-» Ace faltered on his tracks and the girl turned her Medusa stare toward him, taking a couple of seconds to process what she was seeing. The poor man was just a victim of wrong place at the wrong time. All hell broke loose as she tackled him, pushing him to the ground and brawled. Pinning him under her, she started pounding on his face.

«You son of a bitch! I've been slamming on your door forever and either you're ignoring me or not home. Don't you fucking dare avoid me when you've stolen for me, you piece of trash. I'll fucking wreck you, mother fucker!» she roared, making the green ruff chuckle in silence. The amusement lasted for a split second before he pulled himself together and draw her off the green gang leader. The man still hadn't really recovered from his previous injuries, and his face was looking worse by the minute; blue, green and swollen. The grown groaned a couple of seconds before regaining conscience. The minx dangling from his grip was graving and biting at his hand, and in all honest, it kind of hurt. Growing tired of the sticking annoyance, he threw her over ten feet behind. She landed hard on the grass, a grunt escaping her lips. Shit, had he hurt her? Would she need to go to the hospital again? God, no way in hell. He wasn't going to wait for her recovery. Boomer didn't owe him any more favors, and were sure to shut him down if he asked. The blue boy somehow hated his regeneration powers. Butch had no idea why; he couldn't think of a reason, and his sibling had never bothered to tell.

«And you!» She turned her glare at him before the green ruff could think twice about what to do; wait for her pained yell or go over and see how things had gone. The girl quickly jumped back to her feet, high in spirit and furious in mood. «You have no right to touch me or tell me what the hell to do. You should not have taken me here and the only reason I actually am, is because I'm obligated; but don't you fucking think for a second that you can demand anything off me or tell me what the hell to do. Go fuck yourself, Twitch.»

With that, she turned her back and ran straight for the woods. Twitch was a nickname she had given him when they were younger. The ruff had used to have a horrible shaking in his whole body when getting exited from fights, horror or destruction. He would always shake horrendous before they clashed, and she had mocked him about it and given the hideous nickname. Over the years, he had learned to control it, and after not so long, it had vanished; as if never been there at all.

«Holy baby Jesus,» Ace said, rubbing his face to numb the aching injury and wiped the blood off his nose. «What's with these puffs? Even after losing her powers, she sure is strong.» Butch sent him a murderous look over his shoulder.

«Have you installed the beasts yet?» the man was shaking in his knees, but managed to produce a nod.

«They've already been unleashed into the wild life, boss. All kind of different predators; flyers, spyers, swimmers, swingers and so on. Every type, like you asked for.»

«Good. Now get the hell out of here. Leave the rest at the parking spot. I'll deal with it myself,» Butch muttered, eyes staring into the shadows of those trees where the puff had disappeared. He turned and headed for the house.

«But, boss. What about Buttercup?» Ace asked, the rest of the boys came up to him, exhausted and sweat. He gave the order to leave the container behind and get ready to leave. They quickly moved.

«Who?» the green ruff snarled and slammed the door behind him, hearing it rupture under the pressure. It was dusty, filled with sand, spiderwebs and a cold darkness. He needed to get one or two maids over to fix that. Didn't seem like it had been used for years, he pondered as he looked the house over. The hallway was open, a whirling stair in front of him leading to the second floor, living room on his right and kitchen on his left. He turned left, inspecting the new 'home' for the week. The light blue and white parquet under his feet were soft, the timber walls a homely, dark brown color. There was a matching table with four chairs. The bench had a cantaloupe-ish, soft color. Once in it's time, it had been a warm home.

«Well isn't this a lovely house, dearie?» a high voice said behind him as he had laid a hand on top of the woodwork, feeling the layers of dust. He didn't have to turn to know who it was.

«What do you want, dad?» he asked, leaning on the counter, shoulders stiff up.

«It seems like you let the girl go into the dangerous wild, without her powers. You're well aware she can die, right?» the fake happiness in the voice had him swallow softly, barely noticeable.

«I don't care. She's useless. Buttercup can go fu-» A strong hand gripped around his chin, making the words stop. It hurt and he was forced to stare into those soulless eyes of Him. His short, dark hair, those green eyes and the overjoyed smile had him flinch under the burning contact. It didn't matter how much he tried to break out of the devils grip; it didn't budge. He wore his famous suit. It only took a second for that smile to turn up side down.

«What the hell do you think you're doing, boy?» the man spoke with the demonic voice, injecting Butch with horrible back flashes he had buried deep inside his mind. Him was cruel, and hadn't hesitated to punish his children when they failed. «If that girl goes and dies now, I will make sure to drag your ass to hell for an eternal vacation. Your brothers have been given their assignments, and I won't take failure as lightly as I have in the past.» He slammed Butch's head into the counter, making his scull slightly fracture. It bent the metal leg. Grunting in pain, he could feel it already healing, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt like a bitch.

«Find the girl, and get the job done. You can do whatever you want with her afterward. Rape her, torture her, kill her; it doesn't matter, but this mission comes first, and for that she needs to currently stay alive. Finish the job, Butch, or even mommie dearest can't save you.» The devil went up in burning flames and the green puff fell to the floor, breathing heavily. Fucking hell, what had he been thinking leaving the girl to her death? He had to get Buttercup out of there before something went wrong.

Rushing for the door, he took to air when exiting it, not caring to close it. They were out in the middle of no where, and there wasn't a single person nearby. The sun was high on the sky, and it made it hard to glance in between the shadowed branches. He realized how big the wood actually was, and cursed his own sloppiness. Of course the green puff was the girl to get him in trouble. Why couldn't he get the blue one? She had always been the most easy going of all of them, and he could easily charm her into what the devil requested, but Buttercup. She was one hard ass piece, and don't get him wrong. Butch loved a challenge, but this bitch was of an outside level, unable to fill the conditions this task required. He had drawn the short end of the straw.

Growling under his breath, he scanned the are for movements, but only saw animals of different calibers. Furry, scaly, leathery but none human. His eyes weren't useful, so he closed them, listening intensely. First, he could hear too many heartbeats, voicing vocals and rustling, so he tried to shut them out, looking for something out of place. A girl in the wolds, surrounded with wild predators were sure to stand out somehow. He caught up the different breaths, but none told him anything. He listened to the steps, soft, hard, but that didn't get him anywhere either.

There was only one way to find her, he realized as he dove for the ground. He had to go in there and look for her. A foot over the grass, he flew forward, searching the area. Something like a tiger and gorilla looked as he passed, but didn't make any move to get after him. It could probably sense the power difference. Another, huge wasp wasn't that lucky, and he blasted it to gore with a beam.

Finally, he noticed something out of place. Halting in his movement, he listened. It was a faint breath; uneven and ragging, as if the something was moving. Locating the direction, he zipped the way, stumbling upon the target of his search. Hell damn, no wonder she had been running her lounges exhausted.

Buttercup was sitting in a tree, staring down. Her hands were wrapped around, clinging to the texture for her dare life. At the bottom was a weird creature, it's lower half was a boar, but it was covered in thick, white fur, paws with long, black claws and the head of a snarling wolf. It could be considered cute if it hadn't been twice the size of a grizzly bear. It rose on two feet, swinging it's paw at her. The girl moved around, barely dodging the deadly claws. She started going further up, and for a second it seemed like she was out of it's reach. It sat down and stared at her with yellow, intelligent eyes before turning to leave.

«That's right! Go back to the hellhole you crawled out from and get the hell away from me, you freak!» the puff yelled at it, and Butch felt the corner of his mouth tug. She had some for for cowardly guts, being up in the tree, out of it's reach and still yelling at it as if her life wasn't in danger.

Her voice didn't seem to lay in good earth with the animal, because it turned it's ears back and along it's humongous head, and snarled it's pearly white teeth. In one jump, it was half way up and dug it's claws into the bark. She yelled out in surprise and stared horrid from the huge animal and around. There wasn't any more space to go upwards, so she made up her mind quickly, and dove for the next tree. Butch held his breath as she dove into the air, and gripped hard on the next one, screaming in pain. The animal had graced her good, leaving three huge, bleeding gashes. That's when the ruff figured it was enough. He moved up to the animal and took a grip at it's pig tail. It barely managed to turn it's head as he pulled at it, ripping it down from the tree and slamming it into the ground. The animal growled in anger and turned to swipe at him. The man easily dodged the paw, and moved in closer punching it five times in the rib cage. It cracked under the force, and the animal howled as it fell to the ground, dead.

Butch turned toward the Buttercup, meeting her eyes. He wasn't sure what he saw there. Disbelief, fright, torment, confusion and maybe a bit of relief? They stood frozen for a couple seconds, just staring at each other. He felt a small increase in the throbbing in his chest, before she broke eye contact and began climbing down. Misjudging the injury, she laid too much faith in her damaged foot, and it gave in under her. Falling to the ground, he picked her up.

They once again stared at each other, before she averted her eyes and pushed herself off his chest and out of his grip. Landing on the ground, he softly let her down.

«I didn't need your help,» she barely said, and he found himself scratching the gape of his neck, not really sure why he had helped her, like he had done at the hospital. Maybe it was because Him required it of him, but that wasn't everything. Somehow, it felt like more than that, as if he wanted to do it himself.

A howl in the distance had them snap back to reality, and he picked up the animal and went in for her, but Buttercup pulled away.

«Wow, wow, slow down. What are you doing?» She hadn't cussed at him, and that was somewhat an improvement.

«Picking you up. We're getting out of here before more of them comes.»

«You're taking that with you? And what actually is it? I've never seen anything like that before.» They heart rustling and Butch shook his head.

«We don't have the time right now. I'll tell you on the way back. Come on. You're in no shape to move around like that.»

«No. I'm not going to be carried out of here like a damsel in distress.»

«Fine, then get on my back and ride me like a mistress,» he barked and her eyes widened slightly. She didn't get a chance to respond as he turned around and gestured for her to get on. The puff was just about to fluster up and shout at him, as another of the creatures broke out from a bush, and she jumped on his back, terrified of those sharp teeth and claws. He wrapped a hand around one of her legs, another taking a hold of the dead creature, before shooting out of the woods and into the sky.

The sun was hanging low on the sky, and he could feel the green girl exhale breathless. She had gone some time without her powers, and the last time she had been in the air had been with him. Butch couldn't imagine a world without flying. It must be hell for her; trapped on the ground, powerless to even fight those wild animals.

«What are dose animals?» she said close to his ear, making his stomach turn around. It was weird that they didn't yell at each other, but at the same time; he could get use to it. Quiet and peaceful wasn't all that bad.

«Just some experiments from Fuzzy.»

«Fuzzy Lumpkinz?» she asked, surprise in her voice. He could understand that. The peasant had come a long way from his farm after Mojo had recruited him into his company.

«Yeah, turns out he's a real gen modification genius, or something like that.»

«And why are we taking the dead thing with us?» He could hear Buttercup's cynic tone, not pleased with this. _And the moment is over_ , he thought.

«It might taste good,» Butch shrugged.

* * *

 **(Warning. Contains adult themes. Please don't read if you're underage or sensitive to M rated content.)**

Bubbles didn't know how to feel about Max. With his brown hair and eyes, he somehow felt different from yesterday. It could be the lack of sleep after she had stayed up to keep an eye on her redheaded sister, but she could almost swear that he had blue orbs the previous day, and maybe even blond hair. After Blossom's sickness, she hadn't paid him much mind, and the light from the hallway had cascaded his face in shadow. The contours were there, but the colors didn't fit.

After her sisters had left, she had turned to leave. It was polite to talk to him, but she didn't want to stay in the hallway long enough to run into Ace, or any other male for that matter. Bubbles wanted to go back to her land of shadows, left alone to her misery. However, the man wouldn't let her.

«Bubbles, was it?» he had asked while grabbing her hand to hold her back. After the incident in the alley, she couldn't stand for human contact. It had been a real pain to hug Blossom, but at the same time relieving to know everything was going to be okey. This was a total stranger, and her hair was standing on ends. He must have seen her panicked look, because he let her go immediately, apologizing. It had slightly calmed her, but not enough to not pull away to avoid any further touch.

«Yes.»

«I was just,» he averted his gaze from her, strongly choosing his words, «wondering if you want to do something some time.»

«No,» she shut him down and turned to leave, ignoring his attempts of calling her back. He didn't rise his voice, or call her anything inappropriate. Just apologizing and asking her to forgive his boldness. Bubbles didn't know what to believe as she shut the door, locking it. Double checking it was locked, she went for the living room. A blanket was on the floor, and she had sat on it through the night, changing the bucket and keeping watch over her big sister. It scared her how Blossom had refused to go to the hospital, but kept getting worse.

Buttercup had left the door open, lay in her bed and tried to get some rest. By listening to her breath, she could tell the girl hadn't slept more than half an hour from time to time. When Blossom had turned over and face first into the bucket, she had come to the door to inspect if things. The green girl wasn't saying anything, but the blue puff could tell her sister was hurting inside too. Buttercup had always felt things strongly, but she was bad at showing affection in a positive way; it didn't mean she didn't feel it. Bubbles had went up several times, got her redheaded sister to drink a couple sips of water, before passing out.

It was the worst experience yet, and she felt horrible for feeling sorry for herself after that. Blossom hadn't uttered a single negative word from her experience and instead apologized to them. With that, she had gone straight to work, so they wouldn't suffer the consequences of her contract.

Picking up the bucket, she went to flush out the remaining smell. The coach was covered in what had once been white sheets, now the fat color of yellow. Her sister had been shaking, groaning, sweating and died several times. The worst was not knowing the cause. One thing was for sure. The chemical-X in her system wasn't working. It was strong enough to break any biological warfare in her body, but this wasn't like that. What could be equally as strong as chemical-x? Bubbles wondered, emptying the bucket up side down into the shower, and left it there to air dry.

Bubbles knew of only one thing capable, and that was antidote-x. Had Mojo acquired it and injected her sister? No, Blossom would have told them if the monkey had been up to it. Maybe they had tricked her into taking it without her knowing? Had she eaten something the monkey had given her, or Brick? Fat chance. Blossom was the most mistrusting person she had ever met, and she would never take anything from the Jojo's. Bubbles recalled her once sleeping over at work about a week ago. Maybe they had done something to her then.

Shaking her head, she picked up the dirty sheets and threw them into the washing machine, turning it on. It started working straight away. Leaning on to it, she closed her eyes. It could not be antidote-x in that case. It worked an hour later, and her redheaded sister had been just fine up until now. It had to be something else, but what?

Her stomach growled slightly. Together with her sisters, she had managed to get half a bread with bacon down without it coming back up again, but that had been about it. Something had gone down, at least. The girl hadn't looked at her eggs. It would be pushing her luck too much. Tired from the lack of sleep and worry, she fell on the floor, on top of her blanket. It didn't absorbe the impact well, but she barely felt it. The huge sound had caused someone on the other side of the wall to jump, because she could hear the footsteps as they went out and up to her door. A second later, a knock could be heard there.

Bubbles didn't feel like answering, so she snuggled deeper in and ignored the sound, hoping it would fade away. The person gave her a couple of seconds to react, and when she didn't, it became more intense. Annoyed with the persistent banging, she pushed up from the floor and went to open, glaring.

«I- uh, Bubbles. I heard a loud crash and came over to see if you're ok-»

«Go away.» The blond smashed the door in his face and cut the sentence off. Locking the door, she went back to the floor and sat down, not wanting to cause any more suspicious ruckus and lay down, exhaling softly. The sun was dimly shining through the shutters, and she stared at the blue and white sky. Fluttering with her eyes a couple of times, she felt sleep grip around her and drag her down into a warm embrace.

The dream quickly turned into a nightmare. The blond had been outside, playing in the grass with some friends, when the sky clouded over and they slipped through the ground, calling her name. Finding a loss of her powers, she could only watch as they fell and melted with horrible screams into the lava. Crying and calling their names, she heard a chuckle behind. Turning, she found two green eyes staring at her from the darkness. A huge smile had her stumbling, crawling and scrambling to get away, but her muscles weren't listening to her command, and she found herself face buried into the dead ground, crawling. She tried to glance behind, but a big, strong hand held her face planted.

«Stop,» she cried, and felt her skin burn and rip. Watching as her epidermis removed itself, the gashing wound bleeding furiously, she struggled to breath. Her nails were yanked out, and she let out another howl of pain. A knife came down and impaled her arm in front of her face, and she stared at the muscles, felt the metal inside and sobbed from the shock the scenario gave her. Bubbles felt her body numbed, and wished it would also taken the pain away. Paralyzed, she could only watch as it went down her arm, cutting it in half.

«Stop it! It hurts!» she bawled, trying to squirm away, but in vain.

«Oh, dearie, the fun has just started,» a voice beside her ear said, making chills go down her spine. The knife was pulled out, and it gave some relief, before another wave hit. Her other hard was impaled through the palm, and twisted into an odd angle.

«Now that must hurt. Let me help you,» the giggling voice shifted, and she saw a red hand grip her arm, and snap it straight off, bone sticking out. The blond turned and unleashed a screech into the dirt. It didn't help. Gasping, she felt the playful tone of her violator. «Did I do that? I can only apologize that it didn't hurt more.»

«Stop it!» Bubbles turned and looked Him straight into the eyes. The man was laughing and head to the side.

«Oh, no, no, no. I can't stop now. That would be bad for business,» Him gestured toward all kinds of deformed people. They were giggling, drooling, and some even got off to her pain. Her stomach twisted and she turned away, feeling dirty and vulnerable. She could feel the hatred, the lust to hurt them, rip them apart and kick the smug smirk off their faces.

«Take out the insides!» Someone in the crowd screamed.

«Yes, the insides!» another chimed, and Him turned her over, gripping at her cheek. The sadistic bastard didn't allow her to brace herself, as he dug into her soft skin, and pulled out the intestinal, scattering it all over the place. Someone screamed while others moaned. Bubbles felt damp tears on her cheeks as she told herself it was just a dream. She had to wake up. There was no way she was in hell, and Him was doing this to her.

«It's just a dream!» She yelled, and the devil let go of her chin, pulling back. The pain immediately disappeared and she found herself standing face to face with the odd demon. A remorseful look upon his face, he went to touch her, but she pushed back, away from his touch. The man stared down at his hand, and narrowed those green orbs.

«I see,» he muttered before meeting her gaze. «I'm sorry, honey.» Him lifted his orbs and the light around them shone so bright it was hard to see anything. His eyes weren't sinister, evil and darkness. They were sorry, tired and contrition; and for a split second, it wasn't the devil standing there.

«Prof-» Bubbles called out before the light swallowed her, and she opened her eyes. Wet tears fell down her cheek, and she sat up, staring at her own hands. She felt sadness fill her up, but the nightmare had slipped her mind, and she couldn't remember why she was crying in the first place. Sobbing in fetus position, she heard a soft knock on the wall. At firs it was an uneven patterns, but she found herself understanding some of it. Morse code. Listening silently, she spelled it out in her head.

 _Are you all right?_ It came from Max's apartment. Bubbles felt the darkness pressure around her, and slowly went for the wall. Was she going to answer? Ignore? The man hadn't given her any reason to feel suspicious, but so hadn't Ace.

 _Leave me alone_ , she knocked back. It took a couple of seconds before Max answered.

 _Why?_

 _I want to be left alone,_ she walked away, prepared to ignore the rest.

 _Ok. But I am here if you need to talk._ It became awfully quiet after that, and Bubbles moved into the kitchen, cleaning up the plates from the morning. The washing machine started beeping, and she moved the wet cloth into the dryer. Blossom had bought it, so they didn't have to hang strings up in the apartment any more to dry them.

Her phone lit up and she stared at the screen. A text from Blossom. **Buttercup won't be home until a week, apparently Butch is up to some funky monkey business. Could you do the grocery shopping? I'll be home later.**

Biting her lip, Bubbles found herself in a pinch. She didn't know if she could step outside for more than five minutes, let alone walk among them and try to not blast someone's head off. But she couldn't tell Blossom of her fear and burden her with it. The girl worked more than twelve hours a day and had more than enough with Brick.

 **Sure! Anything special you want for dinner? And anything specific you want me to buy?** A couple of minutes later, a list came dinging in, and she felt her heart sink at the content. Did she have enough money for it? Bubbles didn't think so. Another text popped up. **I left some money on the counter. Buy what we need and anything you want, Bubbles. Dinner is on me.**

Moving to the counter, she saw an envelope with her name on. Strange, when had her redheaded sister left that there? She didn't recall seeing it earlier. Picking it up, she felt the heavy content. Peaking inside confirmed her thought; it was loaded.

«Blossom, this is way too much,» the girl muttered to herself and took out a couple hundred bucks.

Dressing up, she tugged her hair under a scarf, a beanie on her head, and a knee-long coat. Going for the door, she took a look at herself in the side mirror. She looked awful with bags under her eyes and puffed cheeks. Wrapping the scarf off her neck, she moved to the bathroom and applied decent makeup. It was the same look as when she had tried to leave the apartment but retreaded after gazing upon Ace. It appeared natural, just how she wanted it, but with less gloss and mascara. For once, Bubbles didn't want to stand shining out; she wanted to hide in the shadows and get avoided.

Grocery shopping? If Blossom could go to work after such a horrible night, then she could go to the story and back without killing someone.

* * *

Alright! That's chapter five. Thanks for reading, and please leave a review! It encourages me to write and update faster. _What did you think of the chapters? What is Him up to, who is your favorite character, and why? What was your most favorite moment?_

BlueScarlet465: Thanks for the review! It really made my day to see the story isn't too boring. What do you think of this story so far?

SweetAngel98: First, thanks for leaving such an uplifting review! It's always nice to hear from the readers. I believe I forgot to tell you where I'm from; Norway. I've had English in school, but nothing majorly serious like university or anything like that. And you're quite right about your grasp on English; it's wonderful. Thank you for the praise! It means a lot to me. Hope this chapter was satisfying and somehow made things a little easier to understand.

Thanks to all you silent readers! You're all awesome.

 _Coming up_ ; Bubbles goes shopping, Buttercup is receiving hardcore training, and Blossom.. She's making her first move on the inside! And as far as the boys goes, they'll stick around and make things interesting.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6. Fighting for survival

Boomer sighed heavily. Bubbles wasn't her cheerful self, and it was clear as day that something was very wrong. Moving in to the new apartment hadn't been any problems, besides from the girls poking around and asking. The green puff was his biggest concern; the girl was known for acting first and ask questions later. He couldn't afford to be exposed now. It wasn't like he could tell them what he was doing, his quest of trying to save Bubbles from the past and possibly the future.

The blond looked at his emptied apartment. Shadows of torn down pictures still hung on the walls, the place was dusty and cold. From what he could tell, it was opposite built from the wall to wall Buttercup owned. It was clear that whomever had lived here before, had picked up their things in a hurry. Whatever Mojo had offered them, they had taken it.

Wandering between the empty walls, he figured out what to take there. It wasn't like he needed any furniture. A fridge might be nice, on the other hand, for storing food if he decided to stay longer and over night. He didn't need to, but it might come in handy. The boy wasn't a fan of the TV, but some music would be nice. Maybe a microwave too, he pondered as he went from the kitchen to the bedroom. It was empty. Did he need any change? Probably. Bubbles had sharpened senses due to chemical-x, and he couldn't let it smell as it did back home. No doubt she would barge in the door and wonder where the corpse was.

So a bed and a dresser for his cloths, the blond nodded to himself and went for the last room; the bathroom. The toilet was already there, and he wasn't sure why he wondered if it wouldn't be. How silly of him. The previous people there couldn't take it with them, even if they wanted to. There was also a mirror coated cabinet over the skin, and a shower. This meant he only needed the lesser things, like shampoo and towels.

A sudden thud reached his ear, and Boomer stared at the wall. The quiet on the other side had him fear the worst; he knew it was Bubbles. Something was wrong, his warning bells went off, and he stormed out of the apartment, not even caring to close to door of his, and knocked on her door, heart in throat. Had something happened? Had she fainted? Was she okey? Receiving no answer had him even more nervous, and the boy knocked again, tapping his foot impatiently.

What if she had collapsed and couldn't get up? Her condition had been so bad, physically. As a child, he instantly knew what was wrong with people without them telling him. The blue boy hadn't always been like that, no. He had been a closed, awkward book as a child, trying to parrot his brothers to become cool, not that it ever worked; instead they would look at him with confused faces and think less of him. Being the blond he was, he hadn't caught up to it until after growing up. Things had become more serious, and he stopped caring. Boomer would mess up missions on purpose, dodge fights with the girls and watch as his brothers got beat badly, laughing at them. His father hadn't cared until Boomer one day refused a direct order. The devil wasn't merciful, dragging him to hell and held him captured for well over a week.

It was at that point the blond had stopped talking, avoided people and hid in the shadows away from everyone. It felt like they could read him like an open book on everything that had happened, and it disgusted them. After the lovely father and son time, he had received odd, new powers. He could read others, how they were physically doing and heal them, but that was just a small portion of the powers. The blond had heard Blossom once rant to them, how with great powers came great responsibility. Words were all it had been to him then, but the boy came to understand what it meant from the trip to hell. The blond had struggled for years to comprehend and get a grip on the powers, and still wasn't able to completely control them, but he wasn't far from being the master.

He didn't intend for the knocks to come off so hard, but the thudding in his ears wouldn't subside, and was half way scaring him. Why didn't she answered already? She had been given plenty of time to answer the door, and the only logical reason would be that she couldn't.

About to knock a third time, the door came up and he stared into the tired blue orbs of his counterpart. Pale, he thought yet again, remembering her once cheerful figure skipping down the school hallways from person to person, flashing everyone a grin and chatting away to whomever took their time to listen and answer. She was not happy to see him, as her eyes narrowed into a dangerous glare.

«I- uh, Bubbles. I heard a loud crash and came over to see if you're ok-» the man stumbled over his words.

«Go away,» she shut the door equally as harsh in two as the sympathy he was trying to display for her.

«- and wondered if I could help,» he finished the sentence and turned away from the door, scratching the nap of his neck. One thing was for sure, he did not like the new Bubbles. The white walls in the apartment had him wanting to change it; Boomer didn't like anything that reminded him of what he had done to her. What he couldn't understand, was why it happened now. He had observed her for years, and she had never shown such sudden change nor to this extreme.

In her paintings, she had only gone as far as to draw rainy, clouded streets, and he had never seen her so horrible. Boomer sat down in the middle of the room, just staring at the wall. He could hear his counterpart breathe lightly, as if sleeping. It sounded peaceful, and be found himself crawling to the wall and leaning against it. The soft sounds had his inner turmoil calm and collected, and the blue boy drifted off into a dreamless sleep, for the third time in his life.

Whimpers had him jolt awake, being used to utter quiet in his hobby room back home. Even the maids had learned to leave him alone, and walked straight past his door as if never been there. It was the way he wanted, and he let himself rot in the darkness. Thus, the sudden, odd sound had him whirling around and trying to locate the unknown. He heard a soft voice speak, repeating lowly like a recorder would.

«Stop it.» He knew that voice, and turned to stare at the wall. It was Bubbles. Was she in trouble? Was she feeling pain? What was happening to her?

«It's just a dream,» the girl said, and it became utter quiet, making Boomer stop his rescue mission. Staring at the wall, using his x-ray vision, he saw the blond. She lay on the floor, still. Her chest wasn't moving up and down, sending chills of death down his spine. The girl wasn't breathing. About to zip into her room, breaking down the door if he had to, he saw her draw a huge breath and rising up, eyes wide. Sweat drops raced down her forehead and cheeks, ending at her chin before dripping off into a free fall.

Despite her aggressively shut down on him earlier, the blue boy had to try. She wouldn't respond well to his approach, but he had to do something, or he would go insane. The blond couldn't stand seeing or being close to him, but her eyes were always asking for help, a darkness far beyond humanly possible at the edge of those blue orbs. Maybe, just maybe, he thought, as his finger tapped at the wall.

At first, she didn't shift, lost in her own thought, but slowly, she cocked her head and stared around, before locating the sound and he snapped for his breath as she stared at the wall, straight at him. The girl wasn't seeing through the wall like him, but that didn't prevent their eyes from meeting, and the boy felt his heart throb violently. It hurt, but in a weirdly good way.

 _Are you all right?_ He tapped with his index finger, swallowing softly as he saw her form approach the wall. She was so thin, so small, so lost. Boomer found himself wanting to hug her close, keep her safe from all the ugly abominations from the wold. The girl slowly sat down, as if not sure to tap the wall or ignore him. Biting his lip softly, he hoped she would. Her finger found the wall, and he listened to the message. _Leave me alone._

Boomer held his hand up to hers, almost feeling the warmth it gave. The wall was separating their touch, but he could still picture the easy sense she gave him. Choosing what to say carefully, as to not push her away, he simply asked why. What was the girl so scared off? Being close to someone? Bothering others? People in general? Boomer could relate.

A hurt feeling crossed her face for a split second, barely there before vanishing, and she harshly tapped _I want to be left alone_ , before removing herself from there. Seeing as the fight lost; the girl now out of his reach, he sighed heavily.

 _Ok. But I am here if you need to talk_ , he let her know, and watched as she went further away. The blond man, now feeling more like a creepy stalker, shut down his x-ray and went back to staring at the empty walls. The hideous, bright color. He really needed to do something about that.

Closinghis eyes, he figured he could listen to her soft footsteps. Twice, he heard her receiving a text, before softly muttering to herself. He couldn't hear what she was saying, but something had changed, and surprised, he heard her dress up. Was Bubbles going out? Maybe she wasn't as damaged as he had been. A slight pinch of disappointment pinched his heart, before he shook it off, now happy the blond wasn't as broken as him. She deserved to be functional.

He went up to the door, and listened as she exited her apartment and went past his. In a split second, he didn't know what to do. Let her go, or follow? Curious like a cat, he went with following. The elevator went down, and he closed the door, taking the stairs. Nobody were around, and he quickly found the bottom, slightly opening the door and peaking through. The blond, a scarf around her face, a beanie on her head and a huge coat down to her knees. The girl didn't want to be seen, he figured. So unlike the Bubbles he used to know. But then again, the girl he had associated with in the past, didn't have a stain on her soul. Something dark had happened to his counterpart, and the blue boy was undoubtedly going to find out sooner or later. He needed to save Bubbles, make everything right again.

The blond made sure to keep his distance, hiding behind the corners when she turned around to look, and kept his distance. He watched as she avoided humans, took side walks and crossed the highway just to get elsewhere. She was nervous, scared of them.

It wasn't cold outside, but autumn was closing in, making it slightly chilly. Pulling his sweater closer, he shuffled his feet. He could see how the girl was skittish, as she turned more and more often, and as she moved around the corner to stare him straight in the eyes, he barely managed to jump up into the air and hide behind the rooftop. If he didn't own super hearing, she would have caught him red handed. Lowering her shoulders, she went back to her path, a little easier in mind. Not taking any more chances, he kept in air and out of her sight, tracking her by ears.

Once she entered a store, it left him with no choice but to enter himself, on the ground. He snack around corners to watch her carry the basket, picking up things on her way. Cheese, bread, metal boxes and different fruit. Her hand hovered over each object for a couple of seconds before picking them up, not sure if she was going to or not. The blond glanced down on her phone from time to time, before acquiring a new item. It was probably a list, he figured.

He caught her eyes staring at different things, as if wanting them, but couldn't have them. He also heard her stomach growl soundless. It was painful for her, but she held her face into a perfect mask. When had she last eaten? He wondered, feeling it ache in his chest. He needed to do something for her, the man figured. Weather she wanted it or not; the girl needed help.

Bubbles stared at something for a long time, her hand half way hovering in the air, before making up her mind not to. Moving along, he came up to her place and stared at it. A simple lollipop, blueberry. He remembered she had been weak for them back in high school, never went a day without one. Picking three out, he stalked further after the blond girl.

A woman caught him staring, and he watched as she walked up to the blond girl, tapped on her shoulder. Bubbles, lost in her thought, jumped from the act and stared wide eyed at the woman for split second, before calming her racing heart. The older woman, brown in the hair with aging skin, apologized for the sudden intrusion, before muttering and pointing at him. Boomer felt his heart sink in his chest as the blond gazed over at him, furrowed her eyes and moved over.

Panic gripped him. Stay there and take the consequences, or make a run for it? If he ran, the whole mission would be blown and he needed to find another way to please his father. It was just a store, and as she came closer, he picked up a couple of things behind his back.

«What are you doing here?» she hissed through her teeth. The blond man didn't see any other way than lie.

«I'm shopping,» he said, showing her the objects in his hands. It was a jar of pickles and some tuna. Oh, she was going to think he was a freak. Mentally face palming himself, he gave her a slightly crooked grin.

«The woman said you've been following me through half the story and looking at me, Max. I don't want you close, don't you understand that? Please, just leave me alone.» Her thrembling voice was hurting his insides. What he wouldn't give to be able to wrap his hands around her and make all the bad go away.

«I'm not going to hurt you. Please, I just wanted to help.»

«Then stay away from me,» the girl snarled before pulling away, the older woman sending him a deadly glare and hurried off. Great, he thought, placing the products back on the shelf before walking off to the cashier. He had money enough thanks to his father, and didn't feel like stealing any more, like he once had. The boys had always had money thanks to Mojo, but as children and rebels, it wasn't what they had wanted. Over the years, the ruffs had learned to appreciate the weird currency, and Boomer had wanted to stay on the good side of the law once growing out of his phase.

Putting the lollipops on for the man to scan in the sum, he picked a seven up and a pack of gum with, pulling out his golden card. The man lazily told him what to pay, and he placed the card into the machine and entered the code. It displayed in green letters transfer complete, and he pulled the card out, inserting it into the holder, before his right, jacket pocket.

Picking the rest up, he shook his head when the man asked if he wanted a bag. Exiting the store, without looking for Bubbles, the man rounded the corner and took a gum, sipping from his soda. He had royally fucked up. Instead of making her understand he wanted to help her, she now feared he was stalking her and wanted her ill.

«Fuck,» he muttered and sighed heavily. Things weren't going as planned. The sun was hanging low on the sky, making his stomach growl. He could head off back to his room, pick up the things he needed and get suited up in the new apartment. Somewhat, he didn't feel like doing so just yet. The girl hated him, and it hurt.

It would have been easy to just give up, but he couldn't. He owed to Bubbles to help her, persistently stay on track. Muttering some encouraging words under his breath, he found himself walking down and up the streets, darkness closing in. He didn't mind the cold and shady area; it felt rather pleasant to him.

Taking a left, he felt something soft hit his chest. Picking his thoughts together, he stared into the blue orbs of his counterpart.

«Bubbles,» Boomer said, surprise in his voice. The girl wasn't anywhere close to calm. Her face went from confusion, to realization, before hitting dead terror. Her hands opened and the soft plastic bags hit the concrete.

«Wh- why are you following me, I don't understand. What do you want of me? I don't even know you!» she pushed him away, making him take two steps back. If it had been a mortal, she would have crushed all of the rib bones, and sent the poor guy flying into the brick wall. Luckily for the blue ruff, he wasn't a normal human.

«Wha- what are you?» the girl stuttered, staring from her hands and to him, not believing her eyes. Boomer knew he had pissed on his leg, displaying what he was capable off. He needed to do something, and fast.

«Oo-of,» he said, gripping his chest. The girl stared dumbfound at him, trying to process what was going on. The blond was never the best at improvising.

«No, hell no. Who are you? I don't believe that for a second.» She then fell into a fighting pose. «You're one of the monsters, aren't you? Did Him send you?» Her eyes became wide and he saw her stomach twist; it sent a wave of sickness through her body.

«Stay away from me,» tears came to her eyes, and Boomer tried to pick his words from his numb brain. He never got the chance to defend himself as she sent a wave of energy through his chest, piercing his heart.

«Leave me alone!» the girl cried, picked up her bags and flew up into the air. Boomer laid still on the cold, hard ground, staring up into the colored sky. He felt the cold clawing inside him, warm blood coughed up from his throat and he blinked slowly, the drops falling on his cheeks. Everything hurt. Whatever had happened to Bubbles, Him had something to do with it. The devil was at fault.

 _Damn_ , the blond boy thought as he felt his life seep out. _Brick had been right. Curiosity really killed the cat._

«Oh, dearie,» the dreamy voice said beside him, and he turned his head and stared at his father. Him was flashing him a huge, pleased smile. «You're being more useful by the second. Great job stalking the girl.» Growling, Boomer turned away. He knew he had fucked up, but now that he knew what was going to happen forward, a plan to break it was forming.

«Oh, no, no,» Him hushed at him and turned his face back with a red hand, eyes malevolent. «You're not going to be able to save your precious little puff. As things are going now, I have to applause you for pushing it forward.» Picking himself off the ground, he watched the crimson liquid paint the ground.

«You're going to finish the mission I gave you, boy. No detour, no sneaky plans to oppose me, or I'm going to tell her the truth.» Boomer's eyes widened. It had the effect Him wanted, as a sneaky gleam formed in his eyes.

«Unless you want dear Bubbles to hate you for the rest of your life for what you and your brothers did and stay alive, you're going to do what I want you to. Are we clear?» Clenching his jaw, the boy averted his gaze. Hurt Bubbles with the truth, or damage her beyond repair? Hell, he couldn't pick one.

«I suppose we are,» Him smirked.

«I refuse,» Boomer coughed. He couldn't ruin his counterpart on purpose. The devil stopped on track and stared coldly down.

«What?»

«I won't help you. I will help Bubbles get better and save her from you.»

«Oh, but dear son,» Him sat down and gave him an almost caring face. It scared the living daylight out of Boomer. «Will you be able to help her if she knows that you, Butch and Brick killed her dear professor?»

* * *

Brick slightly hated his life. After waiting patiently three days for something to happen to his counterpart, without any form of bringing it up and just standing on the side and observing, the redhead found his tolerance wearing thin to the core. Irritation grew on the next following days, until he couldn't wait any more. The stubborn man had to try the stuff himself.

After Blossom had left, quiet and keeping out of his firing range, the redhead couldn't wait any longer. Being reckless wasn't in his description, like it was in Butch's, but dead ends frustrated him more than anything. He had opened the cabinet, and stared at the black stuff. It was slightly moving until light hit it, making it sink back to it's original oily self.

Somehow, his hesitating self added salt to the wound, and the man removed the cork and emptied the bottle. At first, it had been nothing, and he felt rather disappointed. Packing his stuff together and leaving the lab coat in he room together with the building. Half way home, he had felt a weird stinging feeling in his side. It started off as an itching, intolerable poking, before it escalated. Suddenly, once inside his bedroom, the man bent over and puked all over the floor. The pain was unbearable, and he groaned while heaving for his breath. His red carpet was sticky with his stomach acid, previous dinner and the red liquid floating through his veins.

«Son of a bitch,» the redhead had cursed, red eyes searching for the private bathroom. Staggering on shaking legs, he tried to keep the vomit from splattering everywhere. It wasn't much of a success as the wall had a taste of his left spray. Reaching the porcelain phone, the man eased down to his knees and let the flow out.

Painful hours passed with dry heaving, trying to get by with deep exhale and inhale. Barely able to fill the blank glass on the sink, he managed two sips before his stomach twitched again. Sweating, hurting, groaning and flickering with his eyes, he felt his skin grow cold and the world was spinning faster than Mercury.

The man had blacked out several times in the night, and wouldn't have woken if not one of the maids hadn't knocked on the door. Getting up, now past the element of annoyed, he told her to come back and clean the mess after he had left. Taking an unusually cold shower, cleaning himself thoroughly, he dressed up and got to work.

He felt hungover, with the nausea, headache and dry throat. Barely thinking about solid food had his stomach upset, making him abandon it. With a cup of coffee in hand, he entered the lab, earlier than normal, dressed up in his lab equipment. Opening the white cabinet, his red orbs found the empty bottle. Had he really chugged it all down? Curses.

Twirling the bottle in hand, he turned to the sound of a soft beep, and the door opening. His counterpart was anything but a sight for sore eyes. Her skin was glowing, her eyes shining, hair glossy and pearly white teeth. How could she look so appealing after taking the same amount of dosage he had, even larger? It infuriated him how she could stand there as if nothing had happened, and almost smile at him, as if they weren't enemies.

Brick didn't bother to acknowledge her existence any more, and went to work. He needed to make another dosage, test it out on others. Preferably the other puff girls, but maybe also his brothers.

«So,» she said, staring from his working hands to his dodging gaze. «What are we going to work with today?» The redhead wanted to scream at her, tell her to go shove it up a place the sun never shine, and maybe allow himself to get creative enough to break her neck. No, he dismissed the thought. That would ruin the whole purpose of dragging her back to the damn city in the first place. Besides, Him wouldn't be happy if he killed off the girl before he acquired what he needed.

«Silent treatment today? Holy pancakes. I don't even know what your problem is,» the girl muttered and turned away, focusing on the purification of the oil. He hadn't told her what he was making, and it didn't seem like she understood what the black ooze was; and he intended to keep it that way.

«Holy pancakes? What are you, five?» he snorted.

«Really mature, Brick.»

«I was born mature.» The girl stiffened a little in her shape, but didn't give him an answer. Either she was tired of fighting with him – they had been going for years, after all – or was brewing on something nasty. The liquid might take effect, he thought. Maybe she would bucket over and drop dead, but that was just wishful thinking.

They worked in silence, and the man refused to look at her directly, but kept a close eye on her in his peripheral vision. Hours passed by, Blossom writing, mixing and handling things on her own, feeling at home in the place. That was also one of the reasons he couldn't stand her, and still wanted her for his assistance. She was independent and didn't need his orders to do the job, yet she did if he asked for anything, without asking questions. She didn't need to understand everything right away, but rather observed and figured out on her own. And he hated her for being so sure in herself, thinking herself equal to him. It was pinching his nerves.

Slightly confused, he turned his head and stared at the redhead for the first time since she had entered. Something was wrong. The puff was leaning on to the table, as if supporting her legs who couldn't any more. Drops of sweat dripped down her forehead, and she was breathing visibly.

«Hey,» he called out, not sure how to react to her vulnerable state. The girl looked sick. «Hey, Bossy,» Brick snapped his fingers in front of her face, not sure when he had moved over to her side. It had an immediate effect, as she snapped her head back and stared delusional up at him. Her eyes were hazy and she flinched away from the strong light.

«Sit,» he ordered and pushed her down on the closest chair. She obeyed without any protest, and lay her had into her palm. «Stay,» was his second command before he stripped the coat off and exited the room. A devilish smile graced his lips. So little miss perfect wasn't so perfect after all. Holding a cotton is his right and, and scalpel in his left, he dried the rest of the blood off on the pad. Whatever was happening to her, he needed to run a test; and there was only one man capable of doing it.

Reaching the fifteenth floor, en turned a couple of corners before entering a door. He knew all the codes to all the doors, to all times. One look at the code, and he remembered them.

«I need you to run a blood sample from me. Test it up against every possible test. I want to know everything inside and what it responds to,» Brick demanded as he whirled around the white, buttony machines and past the flashing lights. Rounding a glass container with an oddly shaped creature – one eye and five, stripy paws – he found the person of interest. The pink haired man was taking notes, watching the subject.

«Fuzzy, did you hear what I said?»

«Yes, Jojo. As a matter of fact, I did. What is with you guys, thinking that I don't have a hearing despite my poor upbringing. The farm was great, frankly, and you spoiled bastards could really use some honest farming work,» the black eyed man crooked an eyebrow his way before moving away from his latest gen modification, which he actually seemed to be proud of despite the grotesque development. With a stone face, the redhead ignored his whiny attitude and picked up the thread.

«I need you to run every possible test of this sample.» Holding the cotton swap in his left hand, the overgrown man glanced sideways. His first reaction was apathetic to the sample, but that quickly changed when staring at the dark blood.

«However did it become this dark without coagulating?» he stepped forward, fingers moving like hungry snakes toward the now irresistible object. He could see his eyes sparkling, thoughts wriggling in mischievous and all those ideas sprouting from his creative mind. Holding it out of reach, Brick gave him his most iron-wall stare.

«It's not to be toyed, tried or modified. You're going to run tests for me.» Shrinking back, as a distrusting child being taken away it's favorite toy, he could see him psychologically hiss. «I'll bring you a couple of drops to play with if the result pleases me.» This brightened the farmer – now scientist – quite far up, and he nodded his head. Handing the blood over, Brick watched as the man moved about, unsure if he could resist his urges and deliver.

«And what exactly am I looking for?» His voice meant business, as if a switch had turned him back into a grown man. «Besides the abnormal appearance, of course.» Swapping the blood down on a small piece of glace, he placed it under a microscope.

«Just anything out of the ordinary,» Brick said, glancing around while waiting. There were several tanks with the yellowish liquid, and deformed creatures, parts from different animals mixed together. After Him had done his very terrible best, and Mojo had picked up the pieces, Fuzzy Lumkpkins hadn't quite been the peasant he once was. Something sadistic had grown inside, and his fetish for dark and twisted gore sometimes surprised even the rowdyruff leader.

«I can't see anything abnormal,» the man muttered while twisting a scalpel between his fingers. His head popped up from the work, before he twisted his neck and glared at the ruff kid.

«Are you going to stay there all day and stare at me work?» The man had never been found of other humans, to a greater degree than the ruff, and the look gave him the creeps. If Fuzzy got the chance to dissect him without any sedative and the way he wanted, he would do so without delay. However, it didn't scare the redhead. Brick was in a whole other level of nut job Fuzzy could never reach, and that for so many different reasons. His fathers were partly responsible.

«How long is it going to take?» It was empty and cold, as his voice echoed off the white and button blinking walls and machines.

«I'll mail you the results,» Fuzzy grimaced and Brick could tell he wasn't lying. His left hand was already taking notes furiously. Figuring that was that, he exited without a word of goodbye or any gesture of departure. The man better work fast, because the redhead – just like Mojo – hated waiting and any form for progress delay.

Hurrying down the hallways, he felt a wave of nausea hit. _Seriously_ , he thought while grabbing the pit of his stomach. Cursing and doing his best on shaky feet and cold sweat running, the man staggered around the halls until he found the closest restroom. Barely reaching the pottery in time, he huddled forward and emptied his broken and close to empty stomach. Some form of coffee and water came through, blended good with stomach acid and something purple he couldn't identify. Pain. It was terrible and a little piece of hell.

«Gross,» Brick managed to mutter when exiting the stall. A woman, eyes wandering from half closed to bigger than sausages, half trying to apply some mascara, stared horrid at him. She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, but didn't gather herself enough to say anything to him as he washed his hands and face. Flashing her a gorgeous smile, making her half way faint with redness and wet pants, he exited the room and aimed in for his own laboratory. Sure she was going to talk and tell everyone how he, the dark, tall and mysterious had flashed her a smile. Oh, boy. The girls were going to storm at him for the next couple of weeks before realizing it really wasn't anything special, and the woman most likely had made the whole thing up.

Most of the unpleasant agony had vanished by the time he entered the code, and Brick wasn't sure if he was going to be grossed out or surprised. Blossom was kneeling on the floor, a pool of half digested food and water under her. Tears were sprouting from her eyes, but it wasn't more than a reflex from the physical pain she had felt. At his sigh, the girl turned her head and locked eyes as the door shut softly behind him.

«Go home, Bossy,» Brick muttered as he passed her. A glorious headache was clawing it's way up his spine and into the very core of his mind, snarling like a hellhound. He could feel with his ever fiber, that he didn't want and couldn't stand being around his arrogant and goody-goody-two-shoes counterpart.

«I can't afford being sick,» she muttered and went for the white sink on the other side of the room. Her red ponytail was swaying from side to said, and he watched her every move. Back in the old days, he would yank her by it and smash her into the closest wall, laughing while doing so. The lust to do so was present inside him, and the boy felt his cold stare turn into a murderous glare. Being immune to temptation, he felt it knocking on the door with loud bangs, going from nonviable to slightly possible. He wanted to tackle her like a brute, but that would be childish and unexplainable.

The girl washed up the clean and turned to him, wiping her face and hands with paper. They stared for a couple of seconds before she shuffled her shoulders and lowly apologized for the mess.

«I mean it,» a hand went to the left side of his face, as if it could prevent the maddening urges to leap out or hide the ugly truth. «Go home.»

«It seems you don't remember; but I can't take days off without a doctors consent-»

«Then bloody get one,» the redheaded male snapped and stormed past her. He could feel the blood pumping in his ears, vibrating his skin. It was unpleasant, too warm and distracting; making it hard to concentrate on anything.

«I can't!» She turned and screamed at his back, powering his nagging pain. Turning, snarling and seeing red, he marched straight up to her, towering a head over the puff. She didn't step down, standing straight in her back and meeting his fiery eyes.

«And why the hell not?» the icy voice reached her ear, sending waves of goosebumps up her tights. They were almost pushed up against each other, neither jumping off the wagon. Being leaders meant dominance and drift, being right.

«Because I can't afford it,» her voice sent a jump in his heart he didn't know was possible. The man had taken everything he ever wanted his entire life, and Mojo was practically shitting cash if he needed it. The fact that the good guys, the powerpuffs, didn't have enough money to come by had never occurred to him. It seemed surreal. Like what the hell; they were the heroes. Life was suppose to be unicorns, rainbows and candy all the way for them.

«You're an oil engineer, and you're telling me you can't afford going to the hospital.» the puff went out of her chest, and a slight flinch was seen in her eyes; Blossom didn't like talking about it, and felt misplaced in the situation.

«I barely keep any of the money for myself,» she muttered while folding her hands over her chest. «Most of it is shipped off to charity.» and that right there had the corner on the left side of his lips twitch upwards. Of course. She was making enough to last for herself and her siblings, yet she couldn't keep any for herself. The girl just had to give it away and place herself in this fucked up situation.

«Go home,» he waved while turning away from her, wanting her gone. A crazy thought had just hit him, and he wanted to test it alone.

«Weren't you listening? I can't leave-» Holding a hand up, he silenced her to her grim dismay.

«You're out of practice, Blossy. The part where you owe the company money isn't the only part I edited in your contract. At page 25, paragraph seven, I also stated that I could do whatever I wanted to you, when I wanted, alas owning you. So if I say you're free to go home, you do so. It's on me,» the man smirked satisfied with himself, pleased he could outsmart her to this extent. She didn't check over if he had edited anything else? Oh, shame. She sure was getting sloppy.

Her mouth tried to form a word, but it was clear she didn't know where to start, so it kept reforming until she turned away and gave a huge groan.

«Fine, but I won't hear the end of it, will I?» a smile was thrown at him over her shoulder, and he shifted uncomfortably under her calm and almost grateful stare. The only reason he wanted her to go home was so he could do some lone research and satisfy his curiosity.

«Just go,» Brick muttered and clutched a hand to his left eye. He heard his counterpart do the same, and this had the man even more determent to get ride of her and explore what the hell was going on between them. What had the cursed chemical done? And fuck his damn disability to wait. It was Butch's trait, and the redheaded ruff couldn't understand why it was shining so strongly through him these last weeks. It could be because Mojo had pushed him harder than usual, Him expecting more and the cursed feeling of not knowing what made the chemical thick. He couldn't understand it, and that frustrated him.

«Oh,» Brick stopped her before she could go. «If you're feeling like shit tomorrow, take another day off.»

«Thank yo-»

«No, just get out of here and get better,» the man growled and Blossom rolled her eyes before exiting. Maybe she had just as much a hard time figuring him out as he had her. That though pleased him, and he sat down with a microscope. Fuzzy had been given about forty minutes up until now, and was probably half way done with all the tests he was capable of running. Farmer or not, the man was more than productive when encouraged.

Nicking his finger with the tip of the laboratory blade, he squeezed out a couple of crimson drops into the glass plate, pushing it together with another and seating it under the tool. Leaning in closer, he felt his right hand fish a pencil out of his pocket, landing on the closest paper. He didn't bother glancing up what it was about, and quickly started taking notes.

Two hours later, the headache was about to kill him. It had been annoying at first, then escalated into an enormous dinosaur party. Blades were poking his eyes, he was sure something was blocking certain veins in his brain, and sweat formed all over him. God, Brick hated heat, and leaned back into the chair as the fever set in. Almost done, he tried to urge himself on, but it was getting hard to see anything, and objects seemed to double right before his eyes.

Getting back up, he tried his best to focus and get the last tests done, but found it futile. He couldn't do it. Growling with himself, he slammed his fists down on the table. A small ping reached his ear. A mail, Brick recognized and pulled out his phone.

Opening the internet folder, the man glanced down at the jumping letters. Narrowing his eyes, he saw 'Fuzzy' pop up, and quickly opened it.

The inside was messy, but he quickly picked up his own notes and stared at the observations. Besides from some misunderstandings and misspelling from his side, they were identical.

«Fucking hell,» Brick groaned as he dropped the flying papers and his phone. Whatever the chemical had done, both him and Blossom was reacting the exact same way to it. Just by reading her body language, he could tell she had been in deep pain the exact same way he was.

«Just fucking great.» Brick Jojo hated his life. Picking up his stuff, he hurried home. It was getting late, and needed to confront Mojo about this. The man wasn't going to be happy with his experiment, and on the other hand, that might be the reason he might like it. Brick had done something he didn't like himself and didn't think the man could tolerate, which was exactly why he might agree to it. Mojo was hard to understand, and often did the opposite of what he expected. It was a pain each time.

Dodging all the flirtatiously stares, he went for his car and raced back home. Upon entering, he undressed the jacket and moved the sticky cloths around. He needed to take a shower, straight away. Passing the living room, he noticed something out of place. Stopping on his track, he stared at his blond brother. Boomer was bowing his head, hiding his face. His brother hadn't left the room for months, and seeing him sitting there in the opening like everything was fine and the way it should be had the ruff leader a loss for words for a few seconds.

«Boomer?» he questioned, meeting those tired blue eyes. «Why are you down here?» it sounded rude, but at that point he didn't know and didn't care how to cope with the situation. He was feverish, the gross, sticky cloths needed to come off at once and he needed to figure out what to do next. Talking with his brother due to his loyalty was high on his priority list, but right now there were so many things up there the redhead couldn't figure out where to start.

«Hey, Brick,» the man muttered and picked himself up, a look of determination on his face. «I just needed some time to think outside of-» choosing his words, waving with his hands to catch the right use, he concluded with «Everything.» As he stood, Brick noticed all the blood.

«Are you alright?» he said, not moving to aid. Caring was new to him, he did care for his brothers - always had, always would-, but the man wasn't sure how and what to do in certain situations, like this one. Was he going to move to the mans side, help him? Insist on knowing the truth? It just seemed weird to do, so he stood there, waiting for an invitation or explanation.

«Yeah, satisfaction brought me back,» a faint smirk on his pale lips.

«What?» Dismissing it with a wave of his hand, the man passed him and muttered something about a shower, the redhead agreeing on that one. Neither said anything as they took their own side of the house, running the water. Brick turned it to cold, all the way, but it didn't help. His body felt like it was going to explode like a nuclear bomb.

* * *

«Get back up,» Butch barked, and Buttercup was so ready to rip his balls of and shove them down his throat. It would be such an enjoyable sight if he could just choke on them, tears and snot everywhere. Ugly fucker, she thought while pushing off the ground.

Their moment of calm and gentle was quick over. Butch had insisted on patching her up, sticking her leg back together. His hands had been so rough, yet gentle, and she couldn't stand the odd situation, making her stitch the thing together herself. The gash had been bleeding furiously and made it difficult for her to get anything straight. The string had crossed itself together with her flying curse words. The green ruff had enjoyed himself, agitating her more.

So caught up in her work, she didn't notice as he went back to the house and fetched something before returning. Frankly, it had taken under a minute, and she wouldn't have had time to think about it even if she did noticed.

Butch turned the bottle and disinfected her wound, making the brunette snap her head up and stare at the cause of the burning sensation.

«You're pouring fucking whiskey over my wound?» she growled, and he lifted the opening to his mouth, taking five deep mouths before crooking an eyebrow her way.

«Yeah? It always does the tricks on movies?» Buttercup was about to explode. She could see better now that the blood was washed away, and she quickly finished up before pushing up against his chest.

«How the fucking stupid are you, basing your knowledge on movies!?» she roared at him. The muscles in his neck was twitching, and she could tell he would drop her into a volcano if he could, and she wanted to do the same to him. Why the fuck was she there when they couldn't even stand being around each other? What was Butch up to, torturing himself like this? Bothering her?

Taking three more sips, he nodded to nothing in particular, before pushing her over. Her wounded foot gave straight under her and she felt the grass hit her behind. He had pushed her, like a little bitch.

«Get back up,» the brute said, and she quickly obeyed. Swinging her hand for his face, it connected, and a wave of pain hit. If only it had hit the ruff, the puff realized as she withdrew her hand and prevented herself from soothing it with her other hand. It would show weakness, and no way in hell was he going to get that out of her.

«Pathetic,» Butch said to her face, and she kicked him in the gutter. He didn't even flinch, and Buttercup kept pushing at him. A wind of punches and kicks hit the brick wall, and he took a couple more sips of the strong alcohol before she pushed back and wiped her forehead from sweat. A week of standing still in the hospital had her out of form.

«You're pathetic, Butters,» Butch muttered and she roared before going at him again. A smirk tugged at the side of his lips, until she snatched the bottle out of his hand and turned it up side down. Chugging, he watched a couple of seconds in awe as half the bottle went straight down her throat. It was at that moment a brilliant thought hit her, and Buttercup knew how to execute it to perfection.

«Woman! Give that back!» he stormed at her and she pulled away, taking several more mouth fulls. There were barely anything left, and they did their pirouette for a couple more seconds before he grabbed her wrist and forcefully pulled her up into his chest.

«I said-»

«All yours,» Buttercup smirked before tossing the empty bottle into his hand. Hairs on end, he turned a snarl at her, but saw the soft, red hue on top of her cheeks. It halted him in place. Who would've known, being a regular normal human had her tolerance toward drinking sink below the deck.

«Are you drunk?» he muttered, and saw her eyes haze over.

«Drunk? What the hell, no. It's barely anything, any drink, anyfing inside that. I've taken over gabrazilion more and waht, no. I'm not drunk,» she had a hard time concentrating on whatever he was saying, focusing on what she was saying, and he let her go. She moved from side to side a little before giving him a deadly glare. He almost allowed himself to think of it as slightly cute. Almost.

«I suppose the lack of food from today's hunt, half a bottle of sixty percent mixed with the workout you just had made everything speed up. Butterfly, you're drunk.»

«No, no, no,» she held a finger up to his face, the beautiful, colored sky in the back ground resembling her blush. The sun was setting, the forest quiet, and he felt it was about time to down some dinner. «Yu donj't get to Butterfly me after waht yu just sajd,» the girl flustered and he saw her eyes dart to her wound.

«Dis is all yur fault, mojon.» Gesturing with her hands, he couldn't help but follow to the uneven wound. The girl had never been good at sticking, cooking and other feminine traits; it wasn't how the tomboy was built, spice running through her veins. Sighing, the man pushed her down to sit, fetching another bottle. He would have to take another run into town and get more if they were going to last a week if this kept up.

«- yes and theje's the matter of the hospital. Yu dijdn't have to paj foj it, and-» she patter her own cheek, regaining some of her ability to talk. «Why am I even here? We can't stand being around each other. We're built to kill each other, not go camping, drinking, sparing like -» she waved with her hands, trying to find another word for friend that didn't sound so nice and team mate -ish. They were never going to play on the same team.

«Frenemies?» Butch helped, taking her ankle in his hand. Being stubborn like himself, he had often done his own stitches back home after fighting the girls. At first, he hadn't bothered with doing anything about the wounds, until one of them had gotten infected. How the chemical-x in is system had failed to chase the unwanted abomination out of his body, he had no idea, but the following fever and shots Mojo had give him, had been anything but welcome. Thus, the green ruff knew a couple of things to repair himself.

«That,» Buttercup pointed at him. «That I can do.» handing her the bottle, picking the one most difficult to drink off, he cut up her bleeding stitches and she was making due until he picked up the needle and thread, making the first stitch.

«No, ow, stop. I already fixed it,» the girl pushed at him, and he decided to ignore it. Her wound only needed seven stitches in total, so he could make it quick. Into the third one, her attempts of pushing him off was getting the better side of him, and he pushed her over to the ground, seated between her legs.

«Listen, puff,» Butch muttered. He could feel the alcohol making him groggy. «I'm going to do it, and if you're not acting nice, I'm going to do something even worse.» Making the words more real, he lay a hand on top of her stomach, playing with the edge of her shirt. A horrid look came across her face, and he quickly went back to the work at hand. On the last pierce, she had gathered herself enough to answer.

«It's not going to be bad if I want it.» Their eyes locked as he knotted the thread, «Joking, fucker. Like I'd ever want anything to do with you,» Buttercup snarled and he dropped her foot harshly. «Fucker,» Buttercup muttered and Butch stood.

«Stay here.» Drawing a hand through his hair, he sent her a glance that said he meant it, before turning toward the trailer. They were on the back side of the house, and he kept watching her until he couldn't any more, and quickly opened the trailer the green gang had left behind. There was so many odd things inside, he didn't think Ace knew they were only going to stay a week.

Grabbing four sacks of wood together with a couple of other things in a backpack, he headed back. The puff lay on her stomach and stared at the animal in front of her. Her fingers softly touched the material, trying to understand what it was. Butch had already told her it was one of Fuzzy's experiments.

«Why is it here?» the girl asked without looking up. Butch threw one of the sacks between them and set it on fire wit his laser eyes.

«Because I asked Fuzzy for some of them, and he said yes.»

«Why?» Buttercup glanced at him. Her face was red and her eyes seemed sleepy. The light from the fire danced up her form and chased the incoming shadows away.

«Because I'm going to train you.»

«Why?»

«Stop asking,» Butch groaned and grabbed a knife out from the backpack. Testing it's sharpness, he went up to her side and flipped the animal over, ready to gut it. She watched for a few seconds as he opened it up and started pulling the intestines. Buttercup didn't look away, she wasn't grossed out, or found him intolerant for being able to do something so casually. Somehow, it was nice to not hear a girl scream at his actions. But then again, Buttercup wasn't any girl; she was a god damn powerpuff. _Barely in the category of a girl_ , the man snickered to himself.

«I don't understand,» she muttered as he skinned the animal. «Why would you want me to work for you? What are you up to? Why me?»

«Because-» Butch was going to say Him put him up to it. That he didn't have any other choice, that it was his mission to have just her and do this, but quickly decided against it. If Him found out he had told the puff the plan – at least half of the plan he knew – the man would drag him straight to hell and give a private lesson only for him. Never again, the man had promised himself, and it was exactly why he couldn't tell her.

«Because you're actually strong and I want you to work for me, and only you,» he held her gaze, and as the chick flick moment passed, he sliced the head off the animal, to regain his manliness. He could tell she didn't believe him, but he didn't care if she did. It was what he was going to tell her, because anything but the truth would do.

«Despite me being pathetic?» she said, turning to her back and staring up into the sky. The stars were peaking through and the sun was almost down. His laughter roared the silent night.

«Despite that. Didn't know you took that kind of thing to you.»

«Oh, I know it's a joke,» the girl muttered. «I'm adorable. Everyone loves me.» Butch didn't say anything to that, and instead impaled the animal and placed it over the hot, burning fire. Just a few seconds later, he tossed in more fire wood. They sat beside each other, passing the bottle. Once it was done, he cut of pieces of meat and handed it to her. There wasn't anything to say, so they ate in silence. The fire was their only source of light as they lay back and watched the sky twinkle. A couple of shooting stars passed before Butch heard Buttercup breath heavily. Turning, he watched her soft face. She didn't look so harsh while sleeping, something he had learned early on while visiting her in the hospital.

It didn't take long for him to also drift off to sleep.

Minutes passed, ticked by, and after half an hour, Buttercup opened her left eye and stared at him. The man was really sleeping, drool at the side of his cheek and eyes shut. Rolling softly away, she picked herself up from the ground. The booze hadn't hit her as hard as she had played off, but she could still feel it. Staying there with Butch for a week? Trying to tolerate his presence? He had to be joking. Tip toeing toward his car, she smirked pleased to herself. Somewhere in the middle of their closeness, she had managed to grab his keys without the man noticing.

The lights flickered as she opened the car by a touch, and swung the door open before taking the front seat. Plugging the keys in, she turned it. A few seconds passed by, before it burst out violently in a noise of police sirens.

«What the-» Buttercup jumped in her seat and tried to push every button to turn the thing off. At this rate, she was going to wake up-

«That's cute,» Butch said while opening the door and pulling her out. «You were trying to take my car to run away,» he laughed while poking his head inside and turning the alarm off. The second he popped his head inside, she turned to run away, not waiting for the whole sentence.

She got about ten minutes down the road before he landed in front of her, crossing his arms with a very disappointed look. «And I thought we had a thing going on,» he flashed her a fake pouty look.

«You're joking, right?» she said, glaring at him as he pulled her by the arm and back to the house. «We're enemies, Butch. We're not friends, not even frenemies. You're a huge idiot if you think we're going to get along. Working for you? Don't make me laugh. What exactly are you up to?»

«Nothing,» he flashed her his million dollar smile. «And even if I was, I wouldn't tell you.»

«Butch Jojo, I hate you.»

«And I can't stand you, Butters, but this just has to happen.»

«Why?» she screamed, tugging at her arm. It was locked in an iron grip he refused to loosen up.

«You know, I think we'll share room tonight,» he grinned at her like a hungry wolf, and she let out a shriek while tugging at him. In a quick motion, he had her over his shoulder and flew back to the house, not even caring to listen to her protest. Like when he had taken her to the hospital, she threatened, screamed and clawed at him. It almost gave him a nostalgic feeling. Butch had always had a fail safe inside his car, a code only he knew that would start her up. Buttercup had never seen it because the car had been going when he had gone to pick her up. It was just day one, and he was already thinking of horrible ways to punish her in the morning, and he was going to make it fun.

Him surely wouldn't say anything as long as he stayed on track, and to make Buttercup fall for him was going to be hard with both their attitudes, but damn, he was going to do it with flying colors before breaking her heart in thousand pieces.

* * *

 _And there it is! Him is going to break the girls, sending the guys to do it. So much was revealed this chapter, and I hope it just makes it more interesting. What did you enjoy the most? Which character is your favorite? What is there in store? What would you like to see more of? Leave a review and let me know what you think!_

 _The reason I was so late on this update was because I've moved and been accepted to the school i applied for, so it's been a lot to do, but I won't stop writing. Sorry for the super late update, and I hope this makes up for it._

SweetAngel98: Don't think much about getting carried away! I love hearing from others and I'm just glad you take your time to review, it does mean a lot to me. Thank you for the fantastic review, I hope this chapter fell in good taste with the rest. Enjoy and hope to see you again!

Mewfatima: thanks for the reviews! It warms my heart and I'm sorry about Bubbles. More bumps are planed for the story, so please hang in there through it. I'm happy you took your time to leave a review, though. It's always nice to hear what others think.

BlueScarlet465: Hehe, about the Amoeba Boys.. They're something, alright, and you'll just have to see for yourself. The girls are going through a lot and the boys aren't exactly helping. Looks like everyone loves the greens (they're on fire all the times, so understandable.) and I'm sorry about the spelling. I'm a little lazy when it comes to going over what I've already written, seeing it's 10K words each chapter, but thanks. I'll try harder to perfect it.

Oghren: Thanks for leaving a comment! I do realize it's just some minor, messy spelling wrongs here and there, and I'm just too lazy to go over everything seeing it's 10K words in every chapter. It would increase the story if I find a beta, but I have no idea about how to and what to, so for now I'm not if I will, but thank you for the heads up. It's nice to get help, seeing I haven't had this account for that long.

The Lady Otaku: Aww, you're too kind. I've been living on your comment for weeks now, pushing myself to finish this chapter. Hope it wasn't too rushed and enjoyable to read, while enlightening some gray areas in the plot. Thanks for the fantastic review, and I hope it lives up to your standards and peaks interest to read more!

Thanks so much to mewfatima, The Lady Otaku, Sjaylol, Darkjuliet4444 and jack3160 for following this story and another great thanks to mewfatima, The Lady Otaku and jack3160 for adding this to your favorites! It means a lot to me, and all you silent readers out there; You're all awesome!


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7. Plots, betrayal and bacon

To say Mojo Jojo was a capable man, was taking it too short. Once being the pet chimp of Townsville's famous Professor Utonium, he had come far with his own company and three, some what, lovely boys. Being a primate had not been easy, the chemical-x accidentally spilled over him had increased his intellect, capability and learning ability, but there was just so much one could do in an animal body. After the professor had his perfect little girls, the man had hid himself away, feeling ashamed for not being fully completed like them.

In his dark little corner, the monkey tried to find a reason for living. It was difficult in many ways, and in his last attempt to figure something out, he turned evil and decided to ruin the girls lives with his small schemes. Being who they were, little miss perfects, they whooped his butt every single time. Machines, science, super natural drugs, nothing worked. Not even pulling in other bad guys in the process.

As he could almost see the end of his bottle, someone paid him a visit. He'd outsmarted a couple of the other inmates, and was now aiming for eternal sleep.

«Oh, Mojo, dearie,» the sneaky voice whispered into his mind. Thinking himself crazy, or just blind, he turned around to find the source of the sound. A snicker struck at him and with a last twist, he came face to face with the devil. It was Him, dressed up in his suit with the signature smirk in place. «I wouldn't go that way if I were you. I've got a special place in hell for you, but you're just not wanted there yet.»

«Him, the devil whom rules hell and drops in from time to time to torment the professors pretty little princesses, the powerpuff girls, to what do I owe the pleasure, or rather the company?»

«Always the long talk,» Him sighed, sitting down on an invisible chair. Placing his index finger on his chin, the smirk widened, making the monkey pull away. «I've come here to make a deal.»

«What kind of deal do you want to make with me, Him?» he crocked an eyebrow, wanting the conversation to be over even before it had really started.

«Rumors go, and I've heard you're not very happy with,» waving his hands up and down, eyes wandering while his tongue worked with his next words, «the way you're currently looking.»

«Yes?» Mojo muttered, not being used to sit on the bench and wait for an explanation. It was weird to answer so short, but the devil was playing him around his thumb. The monkey was desperate for something to hang on to.

«I can change that, make you look human.» Picking himself up on two, he strolled over to the confident man, now very interested.

«You can do that, make me human like the professor and everyone else? Not a chimp, an animal?»

«Yes, of course I can. I'm the devil. But it's going to cost you.» Snorting, the monkey crossed his hairy arms over his chest. He should have seen this coming a mile away.

«What, my soul, like every book and movie? You really go that way? Despite being the devil, red in skin and everything, it's too mainstream and predictable, - not to mention mainstream- I have to call it pathetic and utterly boring,» Mojo melancholy, and genuinely bummed said. Normally he would be sold at the first chance of a steady stream, but this was honestly disappointing and down right under his dignity.

«Your soul? My dear primate, that thing inside of you isn't worth what I'm offering to give you. This very spirit of life is not what I have in mind, nor desire to accomplish.» Knowing he should be offended by the alluring words, Mojo showed them away with a gesture of hand, dismissing it as mere taunt.

«Then what are you after, if it isn't my soul you came for?» Smile widen, the man leaned on his knees from his invisible chair. It would have looked rather magical and peaceful – as one of the seven wonders – if it hadn't been for the malevolent figure and sinister smile; the utter image of chaos.

«Children.» Time seemed to slow down as Mojo felt surprise fight its way up into his face, gaping his mouth. These were one of the few times Mojo Jojo found a loss for words. His tongue moved around, mind racing to find the correct words, as his palms started sweating. What exactly kind of madness was this man suggesting?

«We're both males, we can't mate,» was the only think he could respond with, feeling more and more stupid as the seconds ticked by with Hims rolling laughter in heel.

«Naturally,» the dark giggle sent shivers down his spine, reddening his face. The devil continued talking before Mojo got any chance to explain himself or rise his intelligence.

«I'm not asking you to whore yourself into a human suit and sleep with me. No, that would be both weird and oddly on-turning.» Confusing words had the hairy man shift his eyebrows, digesting the surreal situation. «In return for giving you a homo-sapience appearance, I want you to make me children. Three, naughty little ones.»

«You're going to counter the powerpuffs,» Mojo muttered to himself, his brain finally waking up from the drunken state and working at high speed. «But no matter what you mix, you'll still need chemical-x. Your plan is flawed, it will never work. There is not a single drop of chemical-x left in this world. The professor used it all to make the girls.» Expecting this, the smile grew even more, making Mojo roll his eyes. Him thought of everything, he always did.

«I'll bit the hook, as in the metaphorical one, not a real one; where ever did you manage to find chemical-x?» Mojo said further as Him held a bottle of black liquid, shining with a hint of blue. The man still remembered what it looked like, and that was unmistakeable it.

«I borrowed some from an old friend,» he mysteriously snickered, eyes wandering to the object.

Mojo's body wasn't numb any more, he didn't feel sadness pressure on his brain and the urge to fall to eternal sleep any more; newly gained strength surged throughout his veins and had the grogginess washed away almost instantly. The man was still drunk, mind you, but the much improved mood had it's positive effect. The world wasn't gray and dark, but filled with new opportunities. Everything he could achieve if he just became human. He would be accepted into the community, people would loan him money, he could show his face without people pointing and making fun of him; Mojo could be ordinary and mix in.

«You'll take away my huge brain and make it normal size too, right?» Mojo scuffed and glanced side ways at him. Him waved a hand, mouth a straight line. Red smoke traveled up his body, every inch felt like dragging claws, pain, sweat, and as the hallucinating hell surrounded him, he heard the screams and agony of those millions of lost souls, - mothers crying for their children, children crying for their parents, lovers lost in their despair, seniors redemption due to their sinful life- and he felt like exploding from the inside. Growling, he felt bones break, muscles adjusting, snapping and reattaching, organs changing and finally he fell sweating to the ground, several seas of his hair filling the ground.

«What ha-» His voice was darker, but he felt the human in it. The roughness of the animal was gone, and left was what he desired. Standing up, the pain still fresh in memory, but only that, he took a glance at the mirror. Normal nose, hairless face but for the beard, eyebrows, eyes, hair, neck, chest, everything was as it should. He took a glance at himself, taking in everything, breathing through his skin toned nose. Never had the smell of sweat and old piss been better. Mojo wasn't an animal any more, he fit straight in the world as equal with the professor.

«You really did it,» the man muttered disbelieving, and the devil chuckled again, floating over to him.

«I already told you,» the hateful snicker traveled across the cell, making Mojo turn and face the butch man. Him was standing slightly higher, but Mojo himself was at least three times his chimp size. Legs were straight, like his back and hips. It felt odd, yet refreshing.

«Now that you have what you desire, I shall take your payment.» Negotiating with the devil was dangerous, and guaranteed a place in hell, but Mojo couldn't give two rats ass.

«How do you suggest I make these children?»

«With snips, 'n snails, 'n puppy-dog tails,» Him spoke, snapping his fingers to dress the newly made subject. His chest was left bare, as loose pants hung around his hips. Being a man of fashion, Him knew Mojo would be famous among the girls. He was sure to give him a working body, with dark hair and handsome features, those purple eyes capable of sending any woman to their knees. «Good luck, dearie,» the demon whispered into his air as he went up in smoke.

It took him a few days to gather everything he needed. Snips wasn't a problem to get a hold of, seeing everyone worked out and was too busy showing off their solid bodies to each other to notice the lurking scientist. The snails on the other hand was another matter. Mojo had to be smart about it, gamble himself a couple of things and buy them from the green gang. They ruled market on the inside, nothing came past them. And then there was the matter of puppy-dog tails. That also took it's time, and Mojo had to do some dirty tricks to get a hold of it, but eventually he managed to do so.

«Now what,» he muttered, feeling stupid to ask the empty air like that. Was he suppose to summon Him to get the chemical-x?

«Now,» Him purred as he appeared out of no where, scaring the man, «we make our children.» A leading hand was placed around his shoulders as they walked over to the toilet. It was dirty and smelled like a nuclear bomb.

«Mix everything inside here,» the red man marked as he handed him the bottle with the moving liquid. It twisted around itself, but quickly died down as eyes were gazing upon it. A disgusted look flashed across Mojos face for a few seconds before he couldn't help agreeing. Boys were, and would always be, manly enough to be born from a toilet.

Dropping the ingredients inside, Mojo opened the bottle and emptied it. It splashed around itself, and Him turned the flusher on. Afraid nothing would happen, Mojo gritted his teeth. Seconds later, it exploded, sending pieces of the hard concrete all around with deadly speed and drenching him in dirty water. Growling, Mojo wanted to scream at Him for pulling a prank on him, but he never got so far, as he lay eyes on three small figures.

They were all three smiling, the middle one dressed in a red sweater with black pants, a red, worn baseball cap on his orange head, crimson eyes filled with intellect and ideas. To his left was one in green, dark hair and forest eyes, smiling wider than the others and a dangerous look upon his face. To their right was a boy in blue, blond hair and deep-sea eyes. He glanced around nervously, but moved back and fourth, ready for action.

«We're the rowdyruff boys!» They screamed in union. «Boomer,» the blue one said. «Brick,» the red one continued. «Butch,» the last one added.

«We're here to kick some butts! And since you're the only ones around, we're going to kick your butts,» the boys laughed. Him sighed happily beside Mojo.

«Newly born and already such trouble makers. You're warming your dads heart.»

«Dad? I suppose that makes you our mom,» Brick pointed at Mojo, making the boys giggle in union.

«Mom?» Mojo scuffed, glancing from himself to Him. «I'm just as man as you are,» he added and crossed his arms over his chest.

«Now, now, honey. Don't argue in front of our children,» the devil played along, amused by the small devils.

«Why are you encouraging them?» Mojo muttered, noticing how Him wasn't drenched in the dirty water like himself. The devil leaned in closer, whispering so only the new baked dad would hear it.

«Because I own you. Everything you are, and will become, is because of me. Remember that the next time I come to you.»

From that day, everything went the other way. At first, the boys were a real pester and pain, but he grew to care for them and appreciate their small pranks. Several years later, he could relate to the professors love for the girls he had created. Mojo was able to understand how things had turned out the way they had, and why he had been left out of it, but that was left in the past. Born as a new man in the human body, he quickly went to work, got support for his experiments and research, and after not so long, he owned his own company; rich to the bone.

Mojo wasn't stupid – in fact he was one of the smartest people alive, next to the professor – and he couldn't understand why the man wouldn't strive after the money himself. The creator of his children's play mates could easily be where Mojo was, yet he had not tried to rise one finger that way, staying in the laboratory for the government.

Years later, after the boys had grown out of their stealing habit and was persuading the girls another way than for the pleasure of beating them up – oh yes, as a father he noticed their attraction for the growing girls – they entered school together with them, and Mojo got to sit down with the professor as an equil parent. It was a new sensation and for some unexplainable reason, he felt the butterflies flutter in his stomach.

After all those years, he still felt respect for the professor. It was weird to shake his hand as a human, and see his old friend greet him as if nothing had ever changed.

«Mojo Jojo, it's a great pleasure meeting you again. How are you doing? How is business? And the boys? Doing their homework?» the man joked, smiling wrinkles displayed in his happy face. The questions took him slightly off guard, and Mojo stumbled a few moments to find the right words, before shaking his hand in a tight grasp.

«Professor John, it's a pleasure for myself to be in your presence. I'm doing quite well, and my stocks keep increasing in value. Soon Bill Gates has to tip his hat for me,» he joked, making the other man laugh whole heartily. Mojo didn't want to say anything on the boys, because he honestly didn't know how they were doing. Was Butch behaving? Brick staying in top of his class? Boomer? Was he getting along with the other children? He was always so nervous around others. It bothered him how he couldn't answer any of the questions. He was frankly just too busy with his own to notice his children. In stead of dwelling, he moved the spotlight.

«And how about yourself? Is everything going as it should?» The man, pipe in his mouth, scratched the back of his neck and glanced quietly around. He seemed bothered with something, but brushed it off. The professor didn't feel comfortable enough to entrust whatever was nagging him to Mojo, and it stung at his chest.

«Everything is as they should. Blossom is graduating at the top of her class along side Brick. Those children are competing about everything. I can hear them argue when he's over for projects. They always insist the teacher is placing them together on purpose because they don't get along in class to try to get them to play nice with each other, but I think they're actually friends and the arguing is just a front,» the man laughed, making Mojo pull on his lips. Brick was probably asking the teachers to place them together, maybe even bribing them to do it. Sly move, son.

«Buttercup is rarely home, but I hear she and Butch makes a great sport team. I've only managed to attend two of their games this year, but they know how to play together from what I can tell. It's a big deal when they're on opposite teams, but I can tell they're mature enough to move past the scoring,» the man grinned, and Mojo felt another sting in his chest. That something he had also missed. Butch was playing on a team? No wonder the boy was skipping dinner and never home.

«I don't really know how Bubbles and Boomer is doing, but they are in the same class. I checked the list when Bubbles started her second year, so I suppose they're also getting along.»

«What class is Bubbles taking?» Mojo asked softly, wanting to know more about his sons, but in a discreet way.

«Well, she's in the same class as Boomer, so I suppose you already know,» John rose an eyebrow, and Mojo was starting to cold sweat.

«I mean, how is she doing?» he nervously forced out a dead laugh.

«Her paintings are coming nicely along. The landscapes she paints has no ends to their beauty, and she captures moments like no other. I have several of her works at home. Every one is a piece of her personality, and I love them. It's an honor to have them up on my wall,» he smiled as he stared into the coffee cup. It was slowly steaming. The meeting wasn't going to start in about five more minutes, so they had some time to chat with their fellow parent around. Mojo was, however, only interested in the professor. His blue son was taking art class? Not very surprising. It was either that, or music.

«And you yourself? Everything as it should?» His expression changed to that of serious, as Mojo lost the man to his own, mysterious thoughts. What he wouldn't give to know what he was thinking, and what was going on.

«Everything is fine, Mojo. Thank you for asking.»

«John,» Mojo said, staring at him with a serious expression. «If anything is wrong, don't hesitate to come to me. I will do everything in my power to help you.» A smile came upon his face and he nodded, but didn't take the bait. The professor kept his locked up problems. Before Mojo could pester him more, the teacher entered and briefed the parents about the system, before making a new meeting to talk about the children.

That was the last time Mojo saw the professor. Just a couple weeks later, he was dead. Everything felt so surreal, Mojo buried himself in his work, as far away from emotions and his sons he possible could. He gave them each their renewed golden card, and disappeared out of their lives for days, even weeks at times. The boys was left to their own. This disabled him from seeing the dark change in his sons, before it was too late.

Years passed, and Mojo had become like a stone, emotions locked away and merciless when it came to his company. A late night; it was raining, the weather cold and sour, darkness creeping in every corner around him, Mojo was pouring himself a drink, trying to chase the headache away. After his old friend passing, he couldn't face his sons for what they had done – and couldn't stop blaming them for it-, and Mojo found himself at the bottom of a bottle yet again.

And that was when the devil came to him, prowling out of the dark corner, grin in place with his signature suit, red in skin and dark in hair. He hadn't aged a day since Mojo had last seen him.

«Such heavy drinking is going to be the end of you one day, dearie.»

«Let's hope so,» Mojo rose the glass over his head before emptying it down the hatch. Tossing the bottle out of the open window, he brought another one – this more expensive than the last – together with a glass. A shot for him and his guest, the devil took the glass and they made a silent toast as the empty bottle outside shattered into a million pieces. No matter. The maids would clean it up in the morning.

«I'm not just here for pleasure, Mojo,» Him said, holding his glass still as the host poured another to the both of them. Nodding, Mr. Jojo already knew that much. Was Him ever around for pleasure? Not that he knew, or ever wanted to. The devil saw world destruction as business, and he didn't dare take the train of thought to what he would every find as 'fun' on his spare time.

«It's time phase two of my plan is executed,» Him sat on the side of his desk, pushing his organized papers and objects into a huge pile. If sober, it might have raged him, but the purple-eyed man couldn't give two shit.

«And what is that?» Mojo asked, the cold glass touching his tired lips. The devilishly handsome man flashed his partner in crime a nerve-wrecking grin. He was like a bottomless pit, taking in everything he could with no concern for whomever he ran over.

«It's time to destroy the powerpuff girls.»

«And if I refuse?» Mojo said. The girls was what was left of the professor. He kept track on them, making sure they were doing good and even mixed himself in here and there to make their lives a little easier.

«It's not like you can,» Him yawned as Mojo gripped his left hand, seeing it shrink and grow dark, long fur. His fingers became crocked and wrinkled, and he screamed in surprise as he saw his old, primate arm. It was a nightmare coming true. «I owe you, and thus I can take away everything you've achieved so far and leave you with nothing. You will do as I tell you, Mojo Jojo, that was our deal for this generous gift I so generously gave you.»

* * *

Blossom was cold. It wasn't the usual chill that made the goosebumps stand on her arms, or the soft breeze of the wind on a warm summer day, no. This was a deep cold, as if frost had wrapped itself around her very core, ice tickling up her insides. It was bothersome, and making her quiver. Bubbles had seemed upset when she had gotten home, but it quickly subsided when seeing her sister. Due to her dizyness, the redhead had needed to lie down, head in the lap of her younger sister. It had been long since last time, and the girls enjoyed their quiet evening without any drama or rowdyruffs in the way. The only thing that was missing, was Buttercup, and she wasn't answering the phone. Knowing the green girl, she was probably doing just fine, but something was preventing her from coming home. The last time they had heard, she and Butch was mingling; Blossom could only hope they didn't do anything bad.

The night had been a mare to say the least. Violent waves of quiver traveled up and down her body, shaking her out of her dreams and into the chilling reality. Bubbles was by the sofa, sleeping on the floor. The girl had dragged Buttercups madras out of her bed, probably going to give the green sister a heart attack when she returned, and beside the sofa. The redhead couldn't determine if it was to stay there for her, or if it was because the blond didn't want to be alone. Either way, she enjoyed the company and it calmed her to see the soft, sleeping form there.

When daylight broke, sleep was no where to be found, and after tossing and turning countless times, the redhead got up. Maybe her muscles wouldn't be so stiff if she moved and got some warmth working. Turning the boiler on, she filled the white can with some water, making enough for two in case her blond sister also woke.

Blossom had been the tea person for as long as she could remember. Bubbles and Buttercup both drank chocolate until they hit the age of fifteen. That's when Buttercup had changed to dark coffee, and bubbled added marshmallows into hers.

Pulling out the box of yellow tea, she fished a bag out before placing it back into the cabinet. A cup with a teaspoon was placed on the table beside the machine, and she rubbed her arms. The skin was cold, and it bothered her enough for her to grab the thickest sweater she owned. It was several years old, given to her from the professor one Christmas. It seemed homemade, and had lasted all these years, but until his dying day, he never told her how he had obtained it, bought or hand made.

Snuggling in it closer, Blossom felt better as the headache earlier wasn't present and she didn't feel like she was walking in a foggy haze. The only thing was the cold, and everything about it was weird. After obtaining her powers, she never felt cold, and warmth didn't bother her. For years, she had worn a thin, soft layer of ice outside on her skin, but it had never bothered her, never made her sweat or burnt, and now it seemed to backfire.

After pouring herself a cup, she drank it in piece, listening to Bubbles soft breaths and watching the sun rise outside the window, she decided to go to work. The cold wasn't that bad after the hot water and cloths, so Blossom found herself leaving the apartment even before her blond sister managed to wake up.

It was still early, so she took her feet to work instead of the car. Some physical movement always made her feel better. Staying at home only had her mood hit the floor, and if the mentality was broken, the body would feel ten times as heavy.

The fresh air made wonders, and she kept a high enough speed to warm the muscles. After the terrible night and day, everything felt much better. Taking the short cuts, Blossom smiled as she opened the doors to Mojo oil, passing straight by the reception. It was currently empty, and that suited her just fine. Glancing at the clock on her arm, it was barely half seven. Plenty of time before people actually came to work. It was much easier to find the door without any fever, and the current code was working. The day was going marvelous.

Upon turning the door, Blossom felt the heat in the room. The windows were open, letting cold air in, but it felt like she had hit a wall of heat. As if the ovens were running on top power. It was good for her cold skin.

If the heat was unexpected, then what she saw next came as a never happening chance in a million years. Brick was sitting on a chair, chest bare and pants loose around his waist. His well built muscles were glistering in sweat, and she could see a dark hue upon his chins. The sight had her freeze in place, unsure of how to react. Walk up to him and check if he was okey? His eyes looked delusional, and the man was breathing visibly heavy as she saw the glistering chest rise and fall. A part of her wanted to walk out and never return. It was just too embarrassing of a situation to ever come across. Never had she ever wanted to see this part of her counterpart.

It took a few seconds of focusing before the crimson haired boy noticed the intruder. His eyes went from soft and dreamy to something harsh and confused. If there was something they had it common, it was that neither backed down, and couldn't stand not understanding the situation to it's fullest.

«Bossy?» he muttered, licking his lips. At the sound of his harsh voice, she sidestepped her trance and went in, aiming for the white coat. Beside the cold, she was feeling just fine and good enough to work.

«I told you to stay home,» he muttered and she heard the squeaking of a chair. He was moving around, the girl concluded as she dressed up and placed her jacket on the wall, regretting the loss of head she had worked up. Her temperature immediately dropped and she had to straighten up to shake off the clattering of her teeth.

«You told me to stay home if I was feeling worse or the same, and I'm honestly feeling better,» she shoot his way, feeling the good day fading away. If only he hadn't been there, she could be doing work on her own. They had already talked about what was going to happen next, and it wasn't like she couldn't handle the work on her own. Brick didn't need an assistant in the first place, so for her to be there was slightly silly.

Brick was leaning out of the window, completely ignoring her. She noticed how soft his skin seemed, and how broad his shoulders were. Annoyed with the distraction he provided, she growled.

«Get some freaking clothes on, dude.»

«Dude?» The man laughed. «You sound just like your brute of a sister.»

«Buttercup isn't a brute!»

«She's more manly than Butch ever will be,» the man laughed, and she saw how the fever was radiating from his body. This could be dangerous, she thought. What if he fainted? Could Brick even get sick, with chemical-x in his system? She didn't think so. However, there was no denying his statement. Blossom remembered once how Butch had pierced his arm with a piece of metal and Buttercup had teased him about how he had to take a shot or else he would die. The green ruff had almost fainted on the spot, when Brick had pulled it out and smacked him over the head, calling him a moron in the process.

The snickering faded, and his feverish face was replaced with a very serious one. Blossom felt her heart skip a beat; this wasn't the control-freak Brick, the once who had threatened to cut her hair of if she didn't do as he wished or glued her pencil to her desk, causing her psychological trauma for not being able to take notes for that class. It was neither the one on the battlefield, that wanted to torture her until she died of pain or submissive to his demands. No, this was a complete other one; just a man, staring at her as if she was his equal. Not friendly, but not a fiend either. A comrade in arms.

«I think I've fucked up, Bossy,» and his eyes rolled up into his head as the man fell over and hit the floor, whirling up dust and lay still as a dead fish. Shocked, confused, not sure what to do with herself, Blossom opened her mouth, before closing it. What was happening? What could have caused her counterpart to turn this sick, looking at her like that, fainting? Brick didn't faint, ever. He would spit everything in the face and run off laughing like a maniac.

«B-Brick?» Blossom stuttered, catching herself before it went too far. Leaving her chair, she kneeling before him and turned him over. He was so warm, so sweaty she had to wipe it off on her coat. The man was still breathing, just very heavily and it sounded like something was moving around in his lounges. Blood? She horrid thought, fishing up the phone in her pocket. Midway in the call, Blossom's brain started working again. No hospital could cure Brick. Their equipment wouldn't work on a superhuman. Normally, she would call the professor when something she couldn't explain came up, but the pinkette didn't have the luxury of talking to the dead. So she stared out in the blind as someone answered the call on the other end, asked several times if someone was there before she snapped out of it.

«It's nothing,» she muttered before hanging up. Out of old habit, she placed her thumb in between her teeth, and started biting. Think, she scolded herself. The biting became harder, until the little nail she had snapped, drawing blood. The taste of copper reached her tongue and it somewhat helped.

«Exactly what were we working on?» Blossom muttered as she left Brick to his state and went up to the desk, searching among his papers. From their shared time in high school, she recognized his handwriting straight away. Words flew by, and her mouth widened more and more as her brain was trying to understand what she was reading. _The metabolism in the inner and outer muscles are overpowering their workable functions, detaching the symbolic co-working of the normal organisms in the-_ what the hell was this? She swallowed as words flew by. Twisting the papers, she turned, read, worked with the article until her eyes landed on a circled word. Chemical-xy. What the hell was that? It was the last thing he had written. Her eyes went to the waiting sample on the desk. Shaken, she leaned over and stared into the microscope. Everything was as anticipated, blood, cells, until something dark, in the form of a pil touched one of them. She could visibly see it twitching and turning, as if in pain, before spiking and mutating abnormal.

Turning to the unconscious man, Blossom grabbed his shoulders.

«What the hell have you done, Brick? You can't go around playing god! This isn't normal! You've creating something far more sinister than chemical-x!» Blossom shouted, swallowing, cold air seeping out of her mouth. Due to it's thinness, it was getting harder to breath.

«What have you done?!» Blossom managed to caught before her head hit his chest, pain and ice filling her inside. She could feel everything freeze over, as if death was skipping around inside her body. A weird, whistling sound came from her throat, and it was so awful she found herself sobbing. Her tear fell on to the chest and immediately steamed off. Brick was burning up, and in a quick flash of desperation, Blossom leaned in to the skin and laid there. She was shuddering, but the heat was somewhat making her shaking stop.

As if receiving new oxygen, Brick took a large breath and stared around. Blossom was gripping herself, trying to hold on to what little life she had left. It was hard, and oh so heavy to lift his arms, but he did. They found their way around the small form, and as her coldness colided with his burning fire, he felt something react. Ten minutes later, he wasn't about to explode, his body wasn't sweating any more, and for the first time in his life, he could feel the cold. It was such a soft and reassuring feeling, making him hug her tighter. Hungry for her to give it all to him, Brick hugged Blossom as firm his tired arms could muster.

«Brick,» she muttered into his collarbone, tickling the skin there, «that hurts.» He could feel her struggling to get free, so he released her. Both, now back to normal, moved away awkwardly. Blossom wanted him to hold her again, was ready to welcome the heat, while Brick longed for the coolness of her skin. They sat there, not sure what to do first, before Blossom remembered her discovery. Like a switch, she turned her angry head his way.

«What the hell are you experimenting exactly,» she demanded, pointing at the papers at his clueless face. The man let his crimson orbs travel to his own work, before sighing loudly.

«It's nothing,» he muttered as he took himself up and pulled the t-shirt over his head, temperature returning to normal. Whatever had happened upon their skin had prevented him from blowing up like a nuke.

«Like hell this is nothing. What's chemical-xy?» He snapped his head her way and she saw anger there. This had her furious. Brick was experimenting on something so dangerous, without telling her, and he had dared to place it inside their bodies. Working for him, she could do. Taking commands from him, she could do. Listen to him insulting her sisters, she could half way tolerate, but experimenting on her without her consent, that's where the girl drew her line.

«You went thought my stuff?» He growled, breast puffed and eyes glaring. His muscles were clenching and unclenching, appearing to be twitching. The man was thinking about hitting her. _Brick was thinking about beating the living shit out of her_ , just minutes after he had held on to her as if she was life itself. How dare he!

«You're actually rude enough to accuse me of trespassing when you're using my body as your own private experiment!» She roared eyes glowing with fierce fire. If she could shoot him in the head with a shotgun, she would. _Bang, bang._

«I own you,» he screamed, full of himself and his arrogance. Snapping her head back, as if he had physically hit her, Blossom lowered her shoulders.

«This is a new low, Brick Jojo, and that's saying a lot in between the tricking me and trying to kill my sisters. I quit.» Walking past him, she dropped the white lab coat to the floor. Picking up her things, Brick managed to regain himself.

«You can't quit!» turning toward him, she could see how the disappointment in her eyes was getting to him. «You're fired,» he said, words almost soft, as if he couldn't believe it himself, yet refusing to back down.

«Fine,» Blossom bitterly snarled before exiting, practically running out of the building. Whatever the day had started as, it was no more. The lovely bright sight of the sun wasn't half as helpful as she had hoped, and the breeze was gnawing its way at her bone marrow, making her knees week. The cold wasn't half as bad as before, but she could feel the aftereffect of Brick's sick experiment. Angry, she stomped her way over the parking lot and waved skirmish at the fast passing car; it had honked and almost scared her to death. Judging by the sun, they had been passed out a couple of hours on the floor.

She could still feel the sensation of those strong arms, wrapped around her. Despite their calm nature the last decade, he was still firm, built like a warrior. Did he do some self training on his spare time, she wondered. Dismissing the thought with a snarl, the redhead wanted to puke. He had been so sweaty, and she could still smell him on her. She was going to take a long shower when getting home.

Half way, it stared to rain. It was so out of the blue, her hair was soaked together with her flooding boots before she managed to take shelter. Standing rather awkwardly at the side of a hotel, she blinked out at the huge drops falling from the sky. They quickly filled the streets, drops turning to puddles and as they connected, she watched a small river be born. Too bad it was headed straight for the sewer. On top of her shaken day, this was everything that was missing to complete it to shit.

Blossom rarely hated days; she saw the potential they held and ceased every opportunity. Challenges were gazed upon as a rare chance to prove her worth, or improve; but this wasn't like one of those days. This wasn't a day she laughed in the face and picked her working speed up, no. These were one of those heavy days, that sat deep in the core and weighted heavily down on the shoulder. Days she usually spent inside, avoiding anything that could turn ugly.

Minutes turned to an hour, and well knowingly she had stretched her luck, a man dressed for his job asked her politely to come inside and book a room, or leave on her merry way. It was a five star hotel, so she could understand how they didn't want anyone hanging outside and dragging it down. If she had the money, she would avoid going home and rent a room, taking a day off from her average shitty self. This wasn't the case; the redhead had no money she could waste in such a place, and apologized for the intrusion, and gravely stepped back into the pouring rain. It wasn't as bad as first it fell, but the rain was far from pleasant.

The passing light from speeding cars mocked her, together with the watching, pitying eyes. Did she look homeless, walking in the rain, soaked to the bone? She would have thought so herself if she was outside of the scenery.

The road was heavy, each step hurt, and every drop felt like another tear at her bad mood. The melancholy of her surroundings had the redhead wanting to cry. Grey, shaded, wet, dark; a combination of illness that tainted her soul, painting it painfully hurt.

When the lone block came to sight in the distance, the girl was shuddering so hard she had to force herself into a slight jog. Blossom could feel her blue lips, the deadness of her skin, and shaking of the freezing bones. Whatever good Brick had done to her body with his over head, was quickly fading away in this rain. She ran in the door, and pushed the elevator button over a douzen times before the light started moving downwards. It felt like an eternity was passing by as she lay arms around herself, trying desperately to keep a hold of the little warmth she had left. As the doors came apart with an annoyingly cheerful ping, a woman with blond hair and brown eyes gasped. Judging by the reaction, she looked horrible. Like a drowned cat.

«Come, honey. Don't stare, it's not polite,» the woman muttered as she dragged along her small girl, those blue eyes huge with wonder, the brown hair braided at two sides.

«Mommy,» the girl tried to say, but the woman dragged her so fast with her the finger barely managed to point at Blossom before they went around the corner and out of sight. Not wasting any second, she entered the elevator and pushed the round button with an eight on it. Tripping, she remembered the last time she had been there, the nice neighbor had saved her after she had puked all over the place and fainted. And it had all been Bricks fault, just like now.

Her eyes turned dark. If she ever saw any of the Jojo boys again, it would be too soon. Butch and Boomer she could ignore and threaten to stay away, but the sight of Brick would bring her to murder. It was a new feeling to her, the need and want to kill someone. The smug ruff had it coming for a very long time now. He was famous for pissing people off and testing limits.

At the fifth floor the machine stopped, and a man with dark hair and a pierced lip stared blinking at her shaking form before gripping the back of his neck and waiting outside until it shut. She guessed he either didn't want to join for the way up then go down, or didn't want to be in her company. From the stares people had given her, she was probably looking awful.

Finally reaching her floor, she went for the apartment, cursing as it was closed. What she wouldn't give for just ripping it open and head straight for the shower. The meter was going far over 40 degrees. Fishing the key out of her pocket, she unlocked the door and entered the dark apartment. How long had she taken to get home? Sure, it only took about fourty five minutes to walk to the Jojo corporation, but she hadn't really been that long gone, had she? Where was Bubbles?

Blossom dropped the jacket to the floor, leaving it for herself to bother with later. Quickly scanning over the area, she couldn't find her blond sister. Buttercup wasn't expected home just yet, so she didn't think much of her absence. Bubbles on the other hand, was odd. Where could the blonde had gone off to?

It wasn't like Blossom wasn't happy she went out – because frankly she thought her little sister had stayed inside for far too long – but she could at least tell her. Her phone didn't show any sign of messages, and Blossom had a sinking feeling in her stomach. Shrugging it off, because Bubbles knew how to take care of herself, she went for the bathroom. The wet cloths were a nightmare to remove, but eventually she could enter the shower and turn the hot water on.

Her body was hurting, frost was leaking out of her mouth, and her fingertips were blue. The girl couldn't feel her toes, and her skin was deeply numb. The water was wonderful, and a huge sigh of relief came from her parted lips. Closing her eyes, she relaxed, let go off all thoughts of the loathed Jojo, and blanked her mind.

Upon exiting the shower, she threw a towel around herself and went for the kitchen. Her stomach was growling loudly in protest from the unusual temperature change, but she never got so far. Something was creepily tapping at the window. It sounded faint, hesitant, as if a branch was swaying in the slow wind. The only problem was that this was the eight floor, and nothing could reach it. Turning her head, she approached the closed window. Her sister always insisted on closing the curtains when they slept, but never explained why. Blossom had thought it was her wild imagination running loose, but now she wasn't so sure any more. Could the abnormality happening to her body effect her sense of reality?

Carefully gripping at the curtains, she opened them with wide eyes, mouth half agape with shock.

* * *

Buttercup was groaning loudly. Curses her head was pounding like a group of oxes on rampage. The harsh light was stinging her eyes through her eyelids, so she covered her head with the closest, soft thing she could find, thinking it as a pillow. It had an odd, familiar smell. Strong, spicy taco with a hint of forest. It wasn't obvious there at first, but the longer she felt it, she thought of hard work, hours upon hours in the wild, rock climbing without a rope and other dangerous sports. It had her blood pumping. It wasn't her smell.

Confused, she opened her eyes to stare down at the black jacket. It was a mistake because of two things. The light was a lot worse then first anticipated, and the jacket belonged to a certain black haired ruff. New gained disgust filled her as she threw the jacket across the room, remembering the event from before. Butch had captured here; the least place she ever wanted to be on earth. Buttercup had heard that her blue sister often came here for inspiration to her paintings, but neither she or little miss leader came there after the professor had died. It was just too painful.

«Wakey, wakey,» someone shouted as the door flew open with a loud crash, making her jump in the sheets. Upon turning, she had found the pillow and was headed off to dreamland as the intruder had so rudely announced himself. Butch was giving her a pleased, smug smile. Buttercup would give away a piece of her soul to be able to rip it off and shove it up his ass so he could have a taste off his own crap.

«Go away,» she groaned, not in the mood for his obnoxious games. Taking it as an invitation, the ruff went straight in to the bed with her, taking up all the space. The sudden lack of space and feeling up against the wall quickly passed her conscience before Buttercup turned to violence. Pounding loose on the intruder, Butch quickly turned around with a smile, making disgusting and childish sounds. He pretended to cross sword with her, yelled out as she clawed at his arm, saying something about poison from the ugly witch. Her kicks didn't falter him nor his cheery mood, and as they brawled, Butch only using half of his strength to hold her off, and was laugh wholeheartedly at her. Buttercup couldn't stand people laughing at her, and as her hot head took over, the green puff chased him through the house with threats and punches.

Whatever melancholy this place had awoke in her, was out of mind. The only thing left in her pretty little head was killing this waste of air. Butch kept taunting her down the stairs from the second floor, and as he dodged her charges, they came in to the kitchen.

«Oh, shoot,» he turned and went for the stove. «The pancakes are burning.» Breakfast filled her lounges, and Buttercup became week in the knees.

«Is that, bacon?» she shaken said, eyes beaming from on top of his shoulders. He had two pans on the stove, one from the bacon and the other for the pancakes. Her stomach growled loudly.

«Damn straight it's bacon. Can't start a proper day without the delicious taste of pork butt.» Buttercup wrinkled her nose at him, making the green man laugh. Anything disgusting her was a point for him.

They both watched as he turned the pancake, revealing it's complete state. On autopilot, Buttercup grabbed a plate from one of the cabinets without looking, and held in in front of her, waiting for the well earned breakfast. Bacon was going to do well with her pounding head. Butch flipped the pancake into her plate. It would have impressed any other normal girl, but then Buttercup wasn't normal, and not interested. She got a couple of pieces bacon and munched it down with her fingers. Blossom had been screaming at her every time she even thought about eating anything with her fingers, while Bubbles had been concerned with the bacteria from her skin. When they had split up, she had started the old habit, which had never really died down. Butch didn't seem to mind as he picked a piece of bacon from the pan and propped it steaming hot into his mouth.

Half way through her third pancake, Buttercup had removed her grogginess and was lowering her shoulders. The food was fantastic; way better than what she had managed to make for herself these last lone years. It bothered how she could get use to this, even moderately like it. Butch standing at the stove, making half asses jokes and being civil with her. She didn't want that. Buttercup didn't want a happy-clown-land Butch whom wanted to get along with her. It made it just that much harder to reject him and hating him. They were suppose to hate each other, not get along and eat freaking pancakes to breakfast.

«Why am I here?» she asked, leaving the pancake on the plate. Butch stopped his humming and she could feel his shoulders stiffen up. Something was going on, and Butch was the last person capable of holding his mask. For some reason, the blue ruff was the best at keeping secrets and defending his cool, while Butch took a clear first place when it came to loose mouthing and thoughtless speech.

«I've already told you. I'm going to train you to become-»

«Yes, yes,» she impatiently interrupted him, knowing his dill, but she was going to break it. Butch had a limit to how long he could keep anything to himself. It was just the way he was biologically built. «I heard you the first time, but I don't believe it. You don't need people to do shit for you. You're Butch freaking Jojo. If you want anything done, you do it yourself,» Buttercup said.

«Why, Butterfly. Who would've thought you were keeping such a good eye to me? Do you want me to accept your feelings?» he smugly rose an eye at her, making her throw the brow and white plate at the wall, breaking the beautiful, old pattern. Buttercup was probably going to hell for ruining something so sacred, but she couldn't care less.

«Don't fucking play with me,» she rose from the kitchen table and glared at him. If looks could kill, he would be twelve feet under. «You're up to something, and I don't know yet what it is, but I won't just go along with this as if I accept it. Because I don't, you slimy toad,» the green girl snarled before exiting the kitchen.

«That's a rather rude way of saying thank you for the breakfast,» he yelled at her, but she wasn't listening. Storming out the door, she heard him bang with the pans before running after her.

«Wait, hold up,»

«Stay away from me. I'm leaving this place, and I don't give a fuck if you're trying to stop me,» Buttercup screamed. She missed home. Her cozy little apartment with her known walls. She missed her every day job at the bar he so rudely had taken from her, and she missed her coffee beans.

«Butters, I wouldn't be running out here in the cold like this, you're not wearing any pants,» he shouted, staggering her on her place. No wonder her feet were hurting, her skin was shuddering, and the red hue on her cheeks became a new shade of red. They hadn't gotten that far, and as she turned to go back, a finger was pointed at his ogling eyes.

«I'll fucking poke them out if you stare any more.» He turned his head, but she could still hear the snicker. «Fuck off,» she said, and sprinted back and up the stairs, aiming for her room. Her pants were on the floor together with her shirt. He hadn't removed her bra, thank god. How come she hadn't noticed before? It wasn't like the house was any warm, or she used to walking around in just her pants – well, yes she was. When living along, watching tv in only underwear was the best feeling ever – no. It was something more. Being around Butch, she didn't feel moderate. It wasn't like she needed to watch her language around him,

Was she comfortable around him? It sounded so surreal, but it was the only reason she could come up with. There was just no way she felt comfortable around him. He was the enemy, they were trying to kill each other, they couldn't stand being in the same room. But, a small voice whispered. He did make her breakfast. None of her ex's had done that.

Snorting, she slipped in to the pants and picked up her sweater. Buttercup couldn't remember removing her cloths yesterday. Had he taken her there? Undressed her? Oh, she was going to kill him.

A small thought came to mind, so she went down. Butch was cleaning up after him. What the holy fuck had smacked him in the head? Leaning against the corner of the door, she watched him clean up.

«You ready for some work out?» he said, while picking up the plates from the table. Of course he knew she was there.

«How did you know what room was mine?»

«Huh?» He said confused.

«Yesterday. I didn't get in bed by myself. I think I passed out half way in our dare game,» she said, staring at the floor. When he had picked her up and taken her back, they had done a game of dare. She had admitted to sleeping with two guys at the same time, while he had tried to piss with the wind against him. Remembering right, it went as it always went.

«Yeah, Hi-hi-hi-hi,» he suddenly stuttered. Hi? It was a slip up, she could tell by looking at his half panicked face. So close. He had almost broke.

«Hi what?» she asked, hoping to corner him further.

«Hi-hi-hilariously enough you still have a green poster with monster on it,» he laughed awkwardly, but it was true. The green poster was the same she had had upstairs, and when younger, he had also had one in his room. She had seen it once at a party, stumbling upon Butch as he had taken a girl to his room. It had been a topic of truce, which both agreed, it was awesome. She didn't know if he still had it. She certainly didn't. It went in to the dumpster with over half of her room when the professor had died and she had to find a place to herself.

«Sure,» she muttered and turned away from him. He quickly finished up and lead her out and back. The wind was strong, but not so it was hard to breath against. Whenever he had time to set up all the equipment, she couldn't understand. The fire from yesterday was no sight of, and she wondered if he had fixed that too.

«So, let's get started,» he grinned sadistic.

Hours later, Buttercup was back to scratch one. Whatever respect she had had for Butch before was gone. Breakfast? Screw it. Saving her from the thing yesterday? Fuck that. Taking the dirty plates? Like hell. She saw red. For the last hours he had tried to show her his method of training, it had been the most fucked up thing she had ever seen. Simple pushups turned to tons of bricks on her pack with only one hand as her alliance. He had been sexually harassing her to push her further in to battle, and it was showing how he was enjoying himself. It was making her sick to her stomach, and as he had smacked her over her lovely behind in a up straight pushup, it was the last straw. The smack had been enough to flip her down and he had then laughed at her weakness.

«You're dead, Bitch,» she growled and charged him. At first, it had been fun to block her attacks and smack her down on her ass, but as the anger in her grew, so did her foul mouth.

«You're just a low life excuse, born from a dirty mans toilet. You shouldn't even be around; you ruff gang is just a waste of air and I hate you all. I wish you were dead, twitch,» she said, triggering the predator inside of him. Grabbing a hold of her arm, he twisted it behind her back, locking his other around her neck. He could tell it would bruise straight away.

«Take it back. I don't know what I've done to you that's made you so angry these last days, but you're just a snotty runt, Butters.»

«Hell no,» she growled, struggling in his hold. It was agitating him to go further. Bending her arm to almost breaking point, he told her to tap out. Her hand didn't, and instead she was fight him with every part of herself. It was as if he was looking back to when they were kids. Whatever they did and managed, neither refused to give up. Her arm broke in his grip, and as she cried out, he let go of her. It was already late evening, but he had made up his mind.

«This was a damn bad idea,» he said, ice cold in the voice. «We're leaving. I'm tired of your ungrateful ass. You're trying to break my things, ruin my car, run away when I expect things of you, and on top of that, you're just another lousy bitch.»

* * *

Sorry for the late update! Here it finally is. So what do you guys think? Where is Bubbles, what is happening outside Blossoms window, and will the greens ever get along? Maybe they already are... Leave a comment! Cheers, until next time!

SweetAngel98: Hey, thanks for the comment from so long ago! I read it the same day, and I'm so sorry I haven't had the time to update before now. School is really hectic, and it's only going to get worse. I've been sneaking in sentences here and there, so this part might be a little broken.. Anyways, thanks for the wonderful comment! It's made my day for so long now!

FFLuvr: Yes, Blossom has the blue liquid 'chemical-xy' inside of her. Ace lives in room 825, sorry if it came out wrong or if I've messed up the numbers. Why do you think Ace is lying about raping Bubbles? Maybe he didn't, or maybe he did? We'll just have to see! I can't really tell you how things are going to go forwards, so you're just going to have to read the exciting new chapter! Thank you for the wonderful reviews, they really made my day, and I'm so sorry for not being able to update before now. School's really hectic.

BlueScarlet465: I can't tell you why the boys did what they did or what's going to happen so far, but I hope you will stay and read it yourself. I'm so sorry for the late update, things have been hectic here with school and I've only managed to write sentences here and there. Thank you for the wonderful and fantastic comment! It made my day.

Big thanks to Shayran16 and Cutiefoo21 for following this story! Welcome abord the train! And another mega thanks to gigiright, Shayran16 and Darkjuliet4444 for adding this to their favorites! This means alot to me guys, so thank you so much for this!

And you silent readers out there, you're all awesome! Leave me a small comment on your thoughts for the chapter, and I'll see you guys next time!


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8. Dancing with the devil 

Bubbles was not having the time of her life, crashing through the door with the shopping bags in her hands and dirty shoes splattering across the dusty floor, making it more into a pig den than it already was. Stomping back and forth, shock coursing through her veins, the blonde placed her fingers in her mouth and started biting. What had she done?

Without thinking, she had killed that poor man; shot a beam straight through his chest. Cold blood, crimson drops dangling on her trench coat. Oh, look, some of it found itself in to her mouth through her fingers, and she rushed to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before saliva and stomach acid mixed into one big, yucky soup at the bottom. The mere stench, strong and ripping at her senses, had her go another round. Mercy wasn't anywhere around the corner, the tears pushing themselves out of the corner of her eyes. Oh, god. This could not be happening. Like a still picture, it clutched to her mind with a sickening snickering. Could silence snicker? To an artist, anything had a voice, and mind.

She needed to go back to make amends, see if he was still alive and get him to the hospital, stalker or not. Whether he was a creep taking pictures and photoshopping her face to porn videos, he didn't deserve to die for it. Maybe by Buttercups hand or spend the rest of his life in prison, but certainly not by hers. This was not the sweet, bubbly girl who laughed everything serious off with a shrug and cheered to her hearts content.

They had beaten people and monsters as kids, when they still were superheroes, but never had she taken a life. The blond woman had never killed anyone before in her entire life. Besides the green gang, the voice poisoned her mind. Feeling the panic attack, as her eyes widened, Bubbles ripped the coat off her shoulders and rolled over on the side, trying desperately to breathe. If luck was on her side, one of her sisters would come barging through the door and save her from this living hell, make everything better. Buttercup would threaten her imaginative nightmares, while Blossom would try to talk some sense in her – something that usually helped – and it would all be over.

There was no one coming, and no way out of this trapped nightmare. Blood smudged all over the white marble, she started violently shaking in desperation to prevent the flowing image. The rape, now the murder. It was all her fault. Whimpering, she pinched her leg, hoping the pain could keep her down on earth; it didn't. The woman floated off. Dead eyes stared at, glassy like fish, blood pouring out of the mouth, shocked orbs. Why? She heard his brief voice. Why had she done it? Why had she killed him? He was innocent. Taking the same path as her.

Paranoia was crunching her shoulders, grinding them to flour for the lusting ogre laughing in the distance. What had the color been? Brown, green? Blue? Definitely. Such a poor, beautiful color too; and she had taken it from him, the bright light of life. She had made him filthy, crashing through the ground and straight to hell. Bubbles had taken a life. Several lives. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

A pain shot through her abdomen, making her curl up into a fetus position, tears streaming like a waterfall down her eyes. Like a needle was jabbed into her flesh, she felt it again, and again. Until she couldn't breath, making her cough and waddle around in a fit of regret.

And the next thing she knew, Bubbles was staring at herself in the mirror. Those dead, dark blue eyes wandered all over her body, making her hate herself even more. It should have been her blood. Her flesh rotting. Buttercup and Blossom crying in black at her funeral. Her pain would be over, she wouldn't be a burden. And this blasted hair!

Grabbing the hairbrush out of the cabinet, she ripped it through her hair, taking huge balls of blond locks with her in the go. It hurt her scalp, it numbed the inner pain, and her sobbing came to a hicks of soft, drawn breaths. It was just what she needed; some physical agony to keep all the shit inside of her together. Another violent jolt went through her and she gave a sigh; a pleased one. It didn't hurt so much any more, it was not driving her to the point of mentally self cannibalism. Her skin was throbbing and soar, but it was worth it. All of it.

Having murdered something other than humans and more self related, she picked up the clothes from the bathroom floor, flushed the toilet and went back to the entrance. Watching her dirty work on the perfect, almost clean floor, Bubbles cursed her own stupidity. If only she was capable of keeping her cool like Blossom, or have more control of her body like Buttercup, she wouldn't be in this huge mess in the first place. Kicking the boots off, slamming them against the walls with a pouting look on her face, the girl shuffled to the living room and grabbed the controller to the TV.

Holding it in her hand, like Osiris with a soul before placing it on the scale of judgment, she decided to rip the bandied off. Surely, by this time someone would have found the body, and it would be all over the news. Turning it on, she glanced over her shoulder, as if her back could shield her from the truth. A woman was talking directly to the camera, her face in a serious matter. Bubbles could feel her heart sink to her stomach, from the guilty look the woman was giving her. Telling her that she knew what she had done, and she would not get away with it.

«A body has been found, brutally molested just moments ago. The people who found the horrific scene called for an ambulance, but the wound was just too severe to save the poor mans life-» and she couldn't hear any more of it, as the room went dark. The controller slipped out of her grip, falling with a stupid thud to the ground, followed by her knees. The stinging pain didn't snap her out of her horrid train of thoughts. It was crushing her with guilt, screaming bloody murderer at her as the blonde tried to cope with the situation. She had really proven herself worthless and dangerous. Bubbles was one of the bad guys. She had killed, and this time it was not in self defense. She had killed someone again, and it had been someone innocent. A monster is what she was. Dogs that bit were put down; much like she needed to. She wasn't worthy of her powers. Protect and serve? Yeah, right. Decades ago, in another life.

A howl escaped her lips. Hollow and dark echoed the empty apartment at her, and the blonde found herself curling up like a bunny, face smothered against her knees. Where was Blossom? Where was Buttercup? She really needed the both of them at the moment, but didn't have the courage to air her thoughts. The blonde was a burden and wasn't allowed to ask. They both had their own problems, and she was not going to add selfish prick to the pile of horrible descriptions of herself. Being a killer, a filthy whore, crying brat and worthless was enough for one day.

She couldn't even go to the store without killing someone. In the middle of all the tears, self blaming and snot, the blonde had managed to tire herself to the point of fainting. Sleep was suppose to do wonder for both the body and mind, filling it with freshly found energy and happy thoughts of a possible future, but Bubbles Utonium had not been so lucky in what seemed to be a very, very long time.

Even in sleep, she couldn't get a rest from the harsh reality, as another nightmare wrapped itself around her body, making her twist and turn to get away from it. It was all in vain, and the soft grunts quickly turned to whimper, to yelps, then screams in terror. Her superhuman voice shook the whole building, scaring the crap out of several children and waking infants to tired mothers sighs. Earth quakes weren't that uncommon, so no one thought more than a moment of it.

Just as she was torn apart in hell yet again, her blue eyes shot open and feverish stared at the ceiling. Him's laughter still rung in her ears, louder than ever before. Maybe he was close enough for her to touch him, but she couldn't see. Didn't dare. He knew what she had done, she knew what she had done, and he was going to make damn sure she ended where she was expected and get what she deserved. Punishment was knocking on her door, sneaking in the shadows, chuckling at the back of her mind. _Fall, fall, fall harder than anyone before, my pretty_.

Minutes passed before her breath calmed down, her body stopped shaking, and the cold sweat dried out. Glancing at the clock at the wall, she realized not half an hour had passed, and groaned while rolling over. Bubbles was so tired. The bags under her eyes seemed to sink through her cranium, making her look like a skeleton. Not just her head, but the rest of her body too, she realized as she held her hand up to her face. Boney fingers. Disgusting. When was the last time she had eaten? Really eaten? Couldn't be that long ago. Restless, she rose to shaking knees. Her sides were hurting from lying down.

Getting to work, she fished out the known bucket and started scrubbing. The blood on the floor had dried a little, making her grit her teeth. Another wash of clothes was humming in the background. Working her way to the entrance, she finished with a stroke of her forehead. Working with something physical helped keeping the thoughts and reality away, so that's what she kept doing. Occupying herself.

Cleaning the kitchen, making a long, advanced dinner with sauce, vegetables, slow cooked meat with onions and flavor. The heat, work, chopping and measuring kept her mind at ease. She was content, and for a brief second, a smile spread across her lips. Reality pulled her back as a knock at the door echoed through the walls. For a second she froze, all kind of flashes going through her head. It was the police, ready to take her to the station and put her in jail where they would rape her all day long. It was Ace, ready with his gang for another round. Him was there to drag her to hell with him, under the doormat so everyone would hear her screams for years to come.

Another knock interrupted her train of thoughts, and hovering her hand over the stove, she decided to answer. Sneaking, really light on the toes, she approached the door, peeking at the small hole in the middle of it. It was a child, with huge eyes and tripping feet. She rose to her toes, and down, like a little swing. The blonde recognized the uniform.

Slowly, she opened her door and peaked out. Didn't want the scare the little one because she couldn't take care of herself. The girl, barely ten or so, peaked up at the cracked door.

«Uh, uh, um,» she said, tumbling with her fingers inside her pocket. Whatever she was looking for didn't seem to be there, as she switched to another, red in the face. The press to prestige was increasing, making her even more nervous from the little fuck up. Bubbles didn't say anything, but waited patiently. Inside the darkness, mind you.

She managed to find what she wanted, and pulled it out, unfolding it and holding it up, like a prizewinning child. Glancing at it, Bubbles grimaced. The blonde was sure to try to keep her face as neutral as possible, not to hurt her little feelings.

It was the Romeo and Julie theatrics she had stopped by earlier to announce. Was it long ago? She couldn't remember, but it felt like so. The poster was worn from being folded and opened several times, some of the writing was smudged all over. The proud look on her face made her heart sink in her chest, and beat hard at the same time. So innocent, just like she once had been.

«Is Butters home? I forgot to ask you last time to invite her. She always comes, each year. Like clock wise. Even gives us a little extra to keep some of the cookies sold. Lisa's mom makes them, and they're better than the store ones.»

«No, she's,» Oh hell. What was her sister doing? Running off with Butch somewhere. Maybe they were dating? Right. Her green brute of a sister would never do something like that. She would rather swallow ten needles. What do you tell a child?

«She's not home,» she finished, about to close the door, but a small foot found it's way there. She could easily just smash the door closed and cut it off- what? No. She was not going to. This was a child. For fucks sake. She needed to get her mind back together and stop being such a psychopath. She had killed someone, was going to hell anyway. This was a child. Fuck, fuck.

«What about you? Are you coming? It's later today, and I think you need to get out, lady. You're pale as a ghost and skinny like a snake.» Bubbles childishly shook her head in protest, but the little one pushed the door open. Somehow, she let her. She was giving it all the strength she had. Adorable.

«You shouldn't enter strangers apartments,» the blonde Puff said with dark eyes. How easy it would be to just wrap her hands around the small throat and squeeze. Would it break? Would she choke? What would her face look like? Would she be able to fight back? Cry? Scream? What? What would it be like? Would she lie down and die? Instantly?

«But I know Buttercup, and you're her sister, aren't you?» she turned to her with the largest smile she had seen in weeks. Not sure of herself, the blonde placed her hands on the spine to keep herself from doing something rash.

«Yes. How do you know that?» The girl laughed and scratched her nose.

«She's very talkative and proud of her sisters. One is a redhead, Blossom, travels around the world and helps with making it a better place. Something about reusing plastic and making oil safer for the world. Big words I couldn't quite understand. And the other is an artist! Blond in the hair with a bubbly personality, just like her name indicates. Seen your works at the museum. Buttercup took me once. I love the one with the sunflowers.» She talked so fast, and Bubbles had to bite her lip to prevent it from trembling and her tears to fall. It felt good, talking to someone and hear such nice things.

«Yeah, the Van Gogh inspired one. Was sure it wouldn't sell, but it did,» she shrugged with a small, almost apologetic smile. Sold pictures were good, but she didn't know where they went, and if people didn't see them, then they were practically useless. Paintings were made to be seen.

The poster was waved in front of her, the girl wiggling her eyebrows up and down. In between the looks she was giving her, with her hand on her hip and the relaxed, leaned pose, the blonde could tell what she was thinking. You want to go, so let's go. Now. Right now.

«My mom says it's a classic,» the girl grinned like a cat. More specifically, the cat from Alice in Wonderland. She couldn't remember what it was called at the moment. It was also alluring and pushy. Was it? She thinks it was.

«Romeo and Julie is a classic. Saddest love story in all of history. They can't have each other in this life, so they take it to the next one,» Bubbles said. It felt good to talk. Not cry, whimper, scream or sob. But talk. Talk to someone who was listening to her.

«So, this means you're coming?» The little one giggled, pleased with herself. Go, not go? Deny, accept? What to do. The little connection they had made was enough for her to willingly go, but she was afraid. What if she killed someone? What if she couldn't control herself? What if something happened? But, but. What if it was safe? What if it was fun? She could have fun again.

«I don't think that's such a good idea.»

«Why not? You might be able to find your colors again.» How old was this kid? She could easily be nine, and twelve at most, and yet her words seemed so serious and spot on. Her face was the least memorable one, just an average looking girl, and she wasn't sure what color her hair was. It could be brown, and it could be blond. Either worked.

And she was right. Bubble's world was shades of white, black and gray. Mostly dark and bottomless, and the life around her was missing. Everywhere she looked, misery seemed to glance her way, mocking her. Gah, how she wanted to just punch someone in the face to get it out. Get what out? Every negative feeling inside of her. Some colors would do her good. Could this be it? _Find your colors_. She liked that.

The girl wiggled her eyebrows up and down, urging her to make a decision. Just a little peak outside wouldn't hurt, would it? No. No it wouldn't. Besides, someone was watching over her. She needed to behave; the need to cause others pain wasn't quite so strong. Could the blonde do it? Yes. Yes she could. Nodding her head, still lost in thoughts, the girl bounced up and down as she pulled her toward the door.

The blue eyed puff quickly took a jacket on and a huge beanie. She looked like shit, but would anyone care? None had cared for her so far, so maybe they wouldn't notice. Practically jumping in her boots – woah, better calm down a little – she ran after the little girl down the corridor and inside the elevator. The little one talked, mouth barely stopping to draw a quick breath before continuing her story.

It was a nice sound. She talked about her mother, how she did at school, the money they were saving up for a trip and her friends. The topic of boys came up, making the blonde a little uncomfortable.

Max had saved Blossom, and she had killed him in her panic. It wasn't fair of her. She was the lowest of scums, denying someone their life. What if he had a girlfriend waiting at home, a kid? Parents and grandparents? She had taken it all. Fuck.

«Bubbles?» the girl tilted her head, a car driving by with incredible speed, lights highlighting the grim look on her face. She had never liked the topic of death. It made her feel sad. God, what had she done?

«We're almost there, just around the corner. If you want to talk about something else, we can. Have you been working on a new piece? Any new paintings?» Her small, fragile voice droned out her thoughts of madness, and she flashed her a tired smile. This little angel.

«I drew the sundown not to long ago.»

«Can I see it someday? I bet it's just as beautiful as your smile.» Charming. This child was just too kind, calling her beautiful when she was awful. With a laugh, one that was so happy it brought tears to her eyes, she nodded her head. She would show her it, and even draw more colorful, beautiful ones when she got home.

Music filled the air, people chatting and the smell of popcorn. With butter. Yum. The relaxing part was that no one seemed to mind her. They didn't throw ugly glances at her, blame her for what had done, but was there to enjoy themselves. Just as she was about to.

* * *

Fuck, he was such an idiot. Brick had to be the biggest baby of them, and chased her out. To be fair, she had volunteered to go, and he wanted to be best – needed to be best – so he had added to her disappointment and thrown her out. Like yesterdays trash. The same trash that had been a perfect, full apple, more tasty than Eden could offer.

Glancing at his hands, the linger of cool still there, he tapped his finger against the table. Go home, or keep working? It was like he was able to concentrate anyway, so staying there wasn't very productive. Nah, forget it. The redhead needed to work. Get his mind off of things, put this puzzle together and understand what was going on. Why could he suddenly feel cold? Why was she the perfect, no, he would never call a puff perfect, but the right amount of cool for him. The heat he had felt was nothing like his previously experience with temperature. He wasn't worried. If there was a problem, he would find and fix it. There was, however, a slight concern, an unease actually, at the back of his mind. It was one of the headaches that prevented him from doing an effective job.

Sighing, he placed another glass under the microscope. Why was he even trying? It would be over a thousands, million reasons to why the chemical-xy was acting the way it was. Curse him for being so rash about it. He should have waited. Seen what happened to her, before exposing himself to that shit.

Wrong one, he grunted while flipping the glass off. It might have shattered on impact with the table, but he wasn't listening nor caring. He left the mess to the cleaners. They filled up used chemicals, cleaned and moved things back in place. Another incorrect sample, he thought as the countless test went flying like a dirty rag.

Brick wondered what Blossom was up to. Had she gotten home, already? When had she left, he glanced at the clock. Barely ten minutes had passed. What was wrong with his head? She was not important. Not relevant at the moment. Not ever.

He managed to distract himself half an hour, before a test sample slipped out of his hands and crashed against the floor. Odd. Brick couldn't remember letting it go like that. Staring at his hands, he found them shaking. Gritting his teeth he forced them to stop shaking. Was he reacting already?

Checking his temperature, he realized he was. An hour after calming down, and he was already back up at it. Kicking the table behind him, he sent it smashing at the wall. Bottles broke, glass flew, metal bent and the table was split in two. Fuck.

Leaving the room, a hand pulling his hair away from his face, the redhead stormed through the corridor like a storming hurricane.

A woman with dark hair was rushing toward him. She was talking in a headset, flipping through a bunch of papers and placing colorful stickers here and there. The woman glanced up and he mentally groaned as she peaked up. If these girls were horny for his looks or money, he could not care less. None of them held up to his standards.

«Mr. Jojo,» she chirped, and he had to held a hand up to not collide with her. What the hell was she thinking? He would stop his important matter just because she was talking to him? Idiotic, foolish, ignorant woman. She rushed along his side as he stormed by.

«Not now,» he grunted at her. God it was getting warm in there. Almost like it was making it hard for him to breathe. He needed to talk to the janitors and make them lower the temperature. Another sticker to his internal memory board.

«But Mr. Jojo,»

«Not. Now.» God, what was he paying these blind fools for? They weren't suppose to disturb him when he was working with their silly little needs. They didn't have needs; these minions were there to serve him. Leave messages, take care of the paperwork, bring coffee.

«But Mr. Jojo, this is urgent. Mr. Jojo called me from up top an-» His head was starting to throb, his heart was increasing its rate and he could swear he was breathing steam. Longing for the cold touch, he needed to find something that could keep him down on earth. Did they have a freezer at the company?

« - and he told me -»

«Enough!» Brick turned and barked in her face, startling the poor girl.

«Listen,» the redhead glanced at her name tag, Johanna, before he proceeded to leer. «I do not have the patience to listen to your unintelligent blabbering right now, and I frankly don't, and honestly wont, care whatever you feel like you have to tell me what is so urgent. Do like you're paid to do, Johanna, or I will make sure you won't be able to get a job above the street ever again.»

The brunette was so wide in the eyes they threatened to pop out at any moment. He was good at intimidating people, and his crimson eyes added to the appearance. Flipping his hair fabulously, he stormed off, mind set on the solutions to his problem. He needed cold; longed to feel the same sensation she had given him. But not her. Brick didn't long for women.

Maybe it had made him normal, made him able to take in the cool touch of ice. The thought was a little exciting, making him rush a little faster. Brick never ran. He could walk fast like a business man, but he was never in a hurry. Whomever was waiting, was worthless in his eyes compared to himself.

With huffs and puffs, anger increasing with every passing second, the man burst through the door, scaring a couple in a passionate frenching. They quickly apologized as they stared at their raging superior and fled the area, not wanting to be in the way of his fury. The high temperature was really getting to him. Not like it usually lay glowing on his skin and melted the ice in the area, but filling his inside with incomprehensible heat. It was making him sweat, delusional and shaken.

Opening the refrigerator, he pushed his head inside, eyes coming in contact with a glass of jam and a box of what seemed to be cooked pasta. Someone was going to be displeased with their lunch. It didn't help; it was still too warm and damp found it's way to his skin. It wasn't cool enough. Leaving the door open, because he frankly didn't care, he rounded the corner and found a freezer. Thank science.

Peaking up, he found himself able to feel something. It wasn't warm, so against all logic and warnings his head was giving him, he dove in it and closed. The light instantly shut off and he was left to himself and the tingling feeling around him. It wouldn't take a fool to understand it could only last for so long, so he fished his phone out of his picket and dialed the glowing number on the screen.

«Master Brick,» it said in the other end. It was the voice of an older man, monotone but respectful. He wasn't shocked to be called, but awaiting the order. The ruff loved to be called master. The title suited him.

Instructions flew left and right, before he clicked the phone shut. Snuggling closer to a cold piece of wrapped meat, or at least he thought it was, he closed his eyes as he waited. It wasn't the same relieving feeling the blasted puff had given him, but it was better than standing out in the corridor and melting.

The top of the lock went up as he squinted against the bright light. Glancing around himself, he saw he had melted all the ice inside there and was swimming in a pool of water. Great.

«Master Brick, your orders have been carried out to our best abilities,» the elder gentleman said, wearing a fashionable tux, holding a blanket in his hands. The redhead grunted as he climbed out of the freezer and took it. It was as cold as anything could get, fueled by the coolest of liquids. Again, it wasn't as cold as he had hoped, but it would help him get back to the lab.

«You're dismissed, Frank,» he ordered, as the older man bowed his head and they parted ways. He wanted to run, mentally making his defense if he blew someone up if they saw him in such a weak state. Self defense was ruled out right away, but he could take some other turns. A moment of madness? It sure was.

Luckily for the poor souls he worked with, or under him, none of them laid eyes on the beast as it stormed along like a king in his hallway, cape flaring behind him. The inside of it was sweat, and he threw it off the second he was inside the lab. The lock had been a little quarrelsome because he had difficulties remembering anything as his brain was high on hormones, but he had eventually managed it. Fortunately for it. Blasting the door was an option, but then his plan might be ruined.

Smacking the door behind him, he was pleased to see it filled with ice, air conditions specially designed for him, and snow in the air. The whole place looked like a winter wonderland, and he sighed pleased. Not cold, but he was not overheating.

With that out of mind, he glanced quickly at the clock. It had been three hours sins Blossom had so disgracefully left her pose. Was she home? Glancing out the window, he saw it rain. Good. Hope she was soaked like a drowned kitten, he mentally barked at her before turning is glance at the work waiting.

Never in his life had he been bothered by the thoughts of working. Butch was the one to groan and wait with it to the last second or drop it like a rock, and Boomer mostly didn't think anything off it. That would be wrong. He didn't know what the blond thought of work. Or what he did. Wrinkling his eyebrows, staring at the samples, he tried to remember what he knew about the blue ruff.

They had lost the blue ruff to Him a short amount of period – how long it exactly was he couldn't remember – but Brick had never asked why. He didn't know why Him had pulled him to the side and how it had changed his brother. Too busy with his own work, he had not given his brothers much thought the past years. Shuffling a little, Brick grunted. Boomer liked blue. He could just give him another tie for Christmas and birthday. What did Butch do? Certainly not work. They were rich enough to drink themselves to death at least five times, and more. Partyboy was living the life.

He himself enjoyed work, flexing those brain muscles and understanding. At the last plate, still no comprehension of what was wrong with his chemical that made him this way, he tied his arm up, tight. A needle went in his arm, tapping his blood. The redhead wasn't skirmish. Watching the crimson liquid fill up, he pulled out the needle and started sorting out on new glass plates.

It was getting late, but he was known for sleeping in the office, or lab for the matter. Bed was just a cosmetic furniture used for a more comfortable sleeping posture. He didn't mind slumping over on the table or leaning back, resting sitting. They achieved the same result in his eyes.

Deep in thoughts about everything and nothing, he was getting tired but refused to do anything about it, he barely noticed the change in his blood. It was about to be thrown out when he caught on to the little detail. Wetting his lips, he noticed how his cells were glowing. It wasn't much, and would have been dismissed had he not been superhuman with sharp eyes, and a perfectionist on top of that. He had gone through his own cells over a hundred times already.

«Now, what are you?» he muttered to himself, rising from the chair and coached his back like Igor. Brick could name every human anatomical part, in English, Latin and several other languages when needed, but he had a very difficult time understanding.

Trotting back and forth, thinking out loud and summing up everything it could be, he suddenly opened his eyes and jumped up from his sitting position on the table – it was rather comfortable and good to change working posts from time to time – and rushed to the table.

How had he not seen it before? It was a pheromone. Taking a closer look, now bursting with pride and expectation, he was quickly shot down. Something was wrong with it. Picking up the bottle of blood, he rushed out and was relieved to see the lights out. Most had gone home for the day. But if he was right, one would still be there.

Barging inside Fuzzys lab, the pinkette jumped in his chair, carefully balancing his chemicals.

«God, Brick. Could you knock? It's not like I rush down your door.»

«You never seek me,» he dismissed the man. The squint would rather spend his time in the lab, locked up with his experiments and chemicals than actually meet people. He didn't like them; said humans were too boring. About to say something back, he was interrupted by a risen hand. «I need you to run a specific test for pheromones and hormones on this sample.» Gaping at him, as if he asked an adult to follow him to the bathroom, the man rolled his jaw before clenching it. His brain was working hard to understand what this crazy Jojo wanted.

«Can't you just-»

«Do it, now.» Hands in the air, he dropped the chemicals on the floor like a manchild, mixing something blue and yellow, making a puking green color. It was working it's way through the floor with a hiss. The man didn't seem to mind, nor care, that his floor was melting. Grabbing it out of his hands, he placed the content inside a machine, Bricks crimson eyes staring him down every part of the steps. He had no doubt Fuzzy was capable enough to do it himself, but he wanted to make sure. He needed to make sure everything went smooth, perfect.

The impressive machine made a futuristic wo-ing sound, completely unnecessary and probably to add a little extra to the odd mans tests purely for his own pleasure, as the screen blinked up. The line on the screen jumped at certain points, before it came to a halt, making Brick mentally sweat. Or was he actually sweating? His hands were shaking again. Fuck, fuck.

«Huh, can't believe I missed that,» the man said to himself, fascinated. «How did the concentration get that high without showing up on the toxic screen? I can't believe I missed this. Fantastic! Phenomenal! Who's blood is this?» He gleefully turned to his boss. Fuzzy became instantly pale. Brick was standing there, no shirt, face flustered or red with wrathful anger. Did he mention he was steaming? His skin was practically on fire, and his eyes were glassy.

«Oh,» was all the pinkette could say.

«Fuck,» Brick shouted as he stormed out. Fuck him. Fuck his life. Why did he have to be so impatient and take the fucking thing himself? He couldn't have just been a little more focused and waited. He should have waited. Fuck him, he was the stupidest ever.

Rushing out the main door, ignoring a pale, flustered, stuttering and shouting Johanna, he took to the sky at his utmost fastest. There was only one thing he could do, and he wasn't sure if he could. Where the fuck was it again? Roaming a couple of blocks, he found the one he wanted. So many stores, so many rooms.

Impatiently, he used his x-ray vision, until he found just the right one. Floating to the window, he tapped softly. At least, that is what he intended. Instead, his finger hovered there for a couple of seconds. Why was he so nervous? Sure, he had fired her and everything, but she had insisted on quitting. He didn't need her back at work, it was just; a reaction of his body. A need. Not his need. Bodily need. Yes, that was all.

The curtains swung up, startling him. How did she? He hadn't touched the glass yet! He wasn't ready! Blossom, wet in hair, dressed in a towel, gasped at the sight of him, before her face turned hard as stone and she closed it again.

«Wait, wait,» he protested, and now his fingers were tapping. Break the glass? She was going to throw his ass out the same way, clipping his wings at the same time. Eight store fall? Even for a superhuman, it would still hurt. Pissed, oh, she was so mad, she glanced this time. Was she shy? Hiding her body. Wasn't like he couldn't take a look at the goodies with his x-ray, but he wasn't Butch.

«I found the problem.» Opening the window a little, he tried to get inside, put she protested, threatening to close it.

«Speak. One minute.»

«No, I have to come inside first.»

«Why would I let you inside my sisters apartment?» Tilting his head a little, he waved at his half naked body, covered in rain and sweat – god, he probably looked like shit – and she noticed the shiver. It was not from what she thought it was, but he was not going to corrugate her. It wasn't like the cool rain had any effect on him.

Groaning, she flipped it open and let him inside. Landing on the floor, wetting it as his feet touched – when had he lost his socks? - he turned toward her. The window was still open, but he didn't mind. She seemed to do so, however. Lips so blue. Was she cold? Shit. This was not the time to think about it, and these weren't even his thoughts.

«The thing you got is heavily infused with oxytocin.»

«Oxytocin?» she shook her head, as if it should matter. God, his counterpart could be so slow sometimes.

«Hormones, attractions, sex drug?»

«I know what it is, I get it,» she closed her eyes in disgust and held a hand to stop him. «What I don't get is how it matters.»

«Well, love,» the voice he was using was mocking at best, but she had the effect on him. Made his blood boil, literally. «It is still chemical-xy, with enchanted oxytocin, making it about, what, ten, hundred times stronger?»

«Don't call me love. What about it? If you can't keep it in your pants, just go make love to someone. Buy an escort,» God, he hated slow people, but he then realized she didn't know he would heat up. She didn't know he was overheating, just that she was getting colder and colder.

«Superhuman,» he pointed to himself. «So if you're not volunteering, I need to know where your sisters are, or I will blow up.» She flamed up, stormed at him with finger pointing. Her hair looked silky.

«Don't you dare touch Buttercup or Bubbles. I will kill you, and your brothers.» Brick folded his hands, rather pleased with her fiery attitude. It was amusing. She was cold. He could feel her chill all the way over there, and she wasn't touching him. Such soft skin, he noticed as he lay eyes on her shoulder.

Taking her hand, he pulled her in closer, trapping her between his chest and hands. God, it felt so good. Fuck the freezer he had found sanctuary for his little nap, even the special made room just for him, this was it. This was the perfect coolness.

«Stop it, ruff! Don't you dare barge in here and blame the outrageous mixture you made for your filthy thoughts and then attack me like the animal you are. You are the one that threw me out, I'm not going to-» but as her mouth was ranting and lecturing – futile, he wasn't listening – she melted more and more in to him. Just like he was craving the cold, she was longing for the heat.

Trailing soft kisses along her neck, she let him. Everything went well, until she moaned. The puff pushed herself away, leaving him with an empty feeling. No, she needed to be there, belonged there in his arms. Reaching out for her again, she dodged him.

«Come on. You are freezing, and I'm too warm,» he impatiently chased after her. She wasn't able to get far before he trapped her up against a wall, hands on each side, pushing her closer. Did Blossom always smell this good? Dipping his nose in her air, he took in the scent.

«We can't, I can't. This is wrong. We're enemies. Brick-»

«Say my name again,» he whispered in her ear, leaving a soft kiss there. «Moan my name.»

«No, get out, we can't. This is highly inappropriate»

«Blossom,» Brick tilted her chin up, hot breath on her cheek. Such pink eyes. Why did she feel the need to cover them up? Fuck what everyone else thought. She was perfect the way she was. The small nose, the few freckles along her cheek, long lashes, full lips. He couldn't help himself, as he lowered and kissed her. They were even softer than he thought.

She was physically keeping herself from moaning, he could tell, but the second he pushed her up against the wall and a knee between her legs, she did. Brick loved the sound, and it was meant for him, and only him. Had she slept with anyone else? He was going to hunt them down and kill them. Only he was allowed to touch her. She was his. Only his. The skin was indeed soft, his hands had no problems finding their way.

Cupping her back and right thigh, he kissed her up the neck. Even the taste of her was little pleasures in his mouth. Her long, wet hair hung loosely, and he gripped the back of her head, forcing another, needful kiss upon her. The man felt like he was playing with an ice cube in his mouth, and he couldn't get enough.

«Say my name, Blossom,» he breathed heavily, staring in her hazy eyes. She was really turned on, and so was he, but he needed her to say it.

«Brick,» and the man couldn't hold himself back any more. He needed her.

* * *

Boomer was waking up with the worst of headaches. His whole head was throbbing, and he was having difficulties breathing. Tumbling out of bed, hitting the floor hard, he groaned. It felt like his bones were made of glass. It could be worse. He could be dead. Bubbles had intended to kill him, really kill him, and he wasn't blaming her. The way he had been stalking her around probably justified her actions, but it didn't mean it didn't hurt like a bitch.

Floating, hail burritos he didn't have to actually walk, he reached the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror. He looked like shit. No, like someone had taken a shit, smashed it all over the place, piled it back up, eaten it then taken a shit again. Groaning, bad choice, he opened the tap, not aware of his strength nor expecting the gushing flow, he managed to soak himself before he turned it off. Who gave a fuck anyway? He thought as the chaotic part of his brain turned it back up. Leaving it like that, he dumped the clothes on the floor and ended up in the shower. Cold water on the floor, warm in the shower.

He needed to get past this hangover and back to the blonde puff. She was probably scared out of her mind; thinking she had killed him. But that would blow his cover. There was no way that sensitive girl would ever forgive him if he turned up at her door, knocking and explaining he was Boomer and was just watching over her. And oh, he was working for Him, but not intentionally and was there as a knight in shining armor to help her. Yeah, like that was going to work. She would kill him, again, on the spot.

The water felt harsh and soothing at the same time. His skin was numb and the moist was just what it needed, but his insides were rearranged around and every touch felt like a gunshot. Not that he would know, with his superhuman power and all. His skin could withstand most impacts, but he had his moments.

It would help him if he knew what Him was up to. What was his father planning? Why was he targeting the Powerpuffs at this time? Why not ten years ago, when the professor had died, why bring them together and put the Ruffs up against them? What could Boomer do? Why was he handed the bottle? What did it do? He needed to take a closer look at it when he got out of there.

The steam in his lounges were not helping him. It was already difficult to breathe normally without adding some extra density to it. Coughing, he let his feet touch the soft plastic. He always insisted on soft things; corners, tables, benches, the floor of the shower.

Carefully, goosebumps popping, he exited the shower and shuddered in the cold air. The towel was a completely no go for him, so he hovered back to bed and snuggled inside. It wasn't as bad as first anticipated.

Him had given him a gift when he was visiting in hell. The way he had put it out to Mojo made it sound like a summer camp, when it in fact had been an experiment. The red transvestite wanted to know how much pain Boomer could take, and if it would trigger any other powers he had. Turned out he was able to take others life energy and make it his own. It saved his life, like when his dare blonde had pierced his heart and he was at the rant of dying; and he would have hadn't a hobo stumbled over to him, asking if he was okey. The second he had touched him, the effect had kicked in, leaving the man dead with his wound, and the ruff with the worst hangover he had ever experienced.

The gift of life wasn't for free, and even though he just transferred his wound to others, he doomed them to death. He took their lives away from them, and he gladly accepted the pain that followed. The feeling of his broken body, still trying to escape the clutches of death. Luckily, this time, the casualty was just a homeless man.

He needed to tell Bubbles he wasn't dead. She had not killed him – better leave out the part about the hobo – and he was going to help her. Keep her safe from the wretched plans of his father. The devil was sly, and had managed to trick him to some extent. But that was ending, right now. He wasn't strong enough to keep her safe in the past, nor tell her the truth, but he was going to save her this time. No more lies.

Which reminded him, he needed to take a look at the bottle. Scrambling around like a turtle on his back, he caught a glimpse of it on the nightstand. Extending his arm, it was just long enough from where he lay, he cupped it and brought it up to his face. There was a small pool of something black inside. He couldn't remember adding anything inside, not even lifting the lid. Brick had been very persistent upon keeping it shut and just hanging around the girls.

So how come it was suddenly so changed? Tilting his head, wrong choice, it hurt like a slap, he studied it. It looked oily like. Take of the lid and take a whiff? Brick was probably going to skin him alive and send him to another, longer camping trip at Him's. Who knew what sadistic fun the devil would come up with? No. Not worth risking it.

He placed it back on something that was closer. If it was the nightstand or something else, he had no idea. The fever was getting to him. Did he mention he got fevers from doing these things too? It was a huge price to pay to keep his life. Pulling the blanket closer, he closed his eyes, and almost instantly fell asleep.

The best nights he knew was when he woke up with a blank head, only remembering blackness and nothingness. After the little bonding he had done in hell, he had nightmares for years to come about it. It had made him so unsure, avoid humans, and lock himself up. The only thing that had kept him sane, was the pictures he bought from Bubbles. Her way of seeing things was a blessing to him. The fullness of a rainbow, the feeling of a sunset, and the smell of wet grass when it was raining. He could feel her feelings in the paintings, take in the smells, see the place she had intended, taste the sweetness of it, even heard the noises. The small bobbling of a pond, the rusting of the trees in the wind, chirping birds. She had saved him in his dares need, even without her knowing, and he was going to be damned if he didn't pay her back.

At first, everything around him was dead. It wasn't just black, but he couldn't hear anything, he couldn't breathe, smell. There was nothing, but suddenly a buzzing caught his ear in the distance. He couldn't determine when it had started, and it felt like it was just suddenly there. Curious, he moved closer to it. He didn't know, couldn't feel his body. But it did feel like he was floating closer to whatever, because the buzzing evolved to muttering, then incomprehensible words.

He still couldn't see anything, just the sound of someone talking.

«- and I'm turning very impatient. Why aren't the results out yet? Why are you so slow and incompetent in your work? How hard can it be to have someone murder you?» the voice turned murderous, from sweet. He knew it instantly. What the hell was his father talking about?

«Don't,» he barked. Was he talking to himself? Boomer couldn't hear anyone else. «This should be fairly simple, right? You get a free pass and I get what I want. It's the perfect win win.»

«But master,» the low voice said, but Boomer didn't know it. He couldn't tell if it was an old, young, woman or mans. Who was Him talking to? He urged closer.

«You better deliver, soon, or I'm going to drag your head off your shoulder, spine still intact,» he roared. «I have already set up the perfect stage, tricked her several times into thinking she's killed someone, so all you have to do, is die by her hand.»

«Understood, but-»

«If you're telling me you're getting cold feet just because she's a powerpuff, I swear I will-» and the voice suddenly stopped. Boomer was so sure he was loosing it, so he rushed over to the sound. Was it Bubbles? Were they talking about tricking her into killing someone? Maybe him not dying didn't count. She didn't kill him. Was the scenario with him they were talking about?

«Boomer,» the voice giggled diabetic sweetly, and suddenly two huge, red eyes stared down at him. Panic filled his whole being, and wherever he turned, those eyes kept staring at him. The smile extended way too far, before it came down and swallowed him whole.

He jolted up in bed, glancing around himself. Sweat was soaking his bed, making him free himself from it and out on the floor. It felt nice to cool down, and he quickly remembered what he had dreamed. At some points through his growth, was he able to spirit walk back to hell, and Him would greet him and trap him there for days upon ends. It was dark outside, and he was fearing the worst. Him was sending someone to take Bubbles down, mentally.

Throwing clothes over himself, a shirt and jeans, he darted out the window. He needed to find Bubbles, tell her the truth and keep her safe. Who knew what it would do to her mind if she killed someone? Boomer knew what type of hell Him was capable of pushing on others, and she was too innocent for her own good. It would tear her apart.

The noise under him made him glance, and luckily he did. A trail of blonde hair disappeared around a corner, and he was unmistakeable when he guessed who's it was. There was no way he wouldn't know out of one hundred, even thousand blond pair of heads. It was Bubbles. Dropping out of the sky, he landed where he had last seen her, rushing inside the ally.

Again he only caught a quick glimpse of it, and willed his body to move faster. He needed to get to her before something happened. Around the next corner, and another, Boomer wasn't sure how she could move so fast. Was she running? Flying? There wasn't a blue streak, so she had to be running.

He finally caught on to her, and she disappeared in smoke. The deep laughter coming out from the shadow, made him growl. Him was playing around. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

«Give up, Boomer. There are no gray zones when it comes to right and wrong. You're one of the bad guys, belong with your mother, brothers and I. Don't be so stubborn. She's just a puff. A girl. A hero. Don't take a Romeo and Juliet, it will never work. Or death to both of your could work, but you are my son, and if I can prevent it, I will. No need to die for trash.»

«Bubbles isn't trash!» He yelled at no one in particular.

«So she is worth saving?»

«Yes, more than anything,» he argued. Arguing with the devil. Did he feel stupid or what. But Him had a particular soft spot for the blond. Mojo had one for Brick. Butch was just chaos, so they left him to his. He was a good soldier, followed orders when given them. Boomer followed his heart, and Brick his brain.

«She's at the festival. You can still make it if you rush,» the sigh came from the shadows, smoke disappearing. «Save my daughter,» it whispered softly, barely loud enough for him to hear it.

«What?» Boomer turned, but Him was gone. Had he imagined the last part? No time to stand around, he argued with himself, before he darted off. He was hoping Him wasn't lying – because the devil never lied, right? - and that he still had time to save her.

Pushing through the crowd, the smell of popcorn, people laughing and shouting filled him, but the man only had eyes for one person. Twirling back and forth, he thought he got a glimpse of it. Long blonde hair, and a sweet laughter.

A woman cried in the same direction, and he feared the worst. Bullying himself through, not caring if he knocked popcorn out of peoples hands or pushed them over, he managed to get to the scene. It wasn't one yet, but he saw it could quickly turn in to one. A woman, man covering her, was staring at the blonde.

Bubbles was kneeling down, hands locked around a little girls neck. The little one was crying for her mother, and he recognized the voice. It was the same he had heard in his dream. This was the plan.

He dive in with lightning reflexes. People were gaping, a man was covering his nose from a horrible bleeding, the blonde had probably pushed him out of the way. Locking his hands around her arms and neck, the man forced her hands free from the throat and pushed her down on the ground. Bubbles was kicking around, snarling like a wild animal.

«Get out of here,» he shouted at the rest of the people, but they didn't move fast enough. Too many were too busy wanting to know what was going to happen and about the end result, that the blonde managed to break free from his hold.

She turned to him, and he saw how her eyes were glazed over with red smoke. She was under a hallucination. This is what Him did to her, making her see things that weren't there and pushing her in to madness. They were quite matching, him looking tired and like shit, panicked out of his mind, and she with her dark circles, dead hair and pale skin. She was so different from what he remembered. More worn, torn to peaces by her own mind. He was going to kill Him.

It tore at his heart to see her like that, trapped in a corner like an animal and scared. Scared of the rest of the world. As a life loving Puff, he would never expect her to become like this. How could her sisters not see what was happening? Weren't they suppose to take care of each other?

«Bubbles,» he said, hands up in case she got any smart ideas. One wrong movement, and she could kill anyone there, giving the devil what he wanted.

«It's all your fault, you know,» the little girl said, glancing between Boomer and Bubbles, agitating her. It was working, he could tell by the tears in her eyes and the look of a thinking mind. A self blaming mind.

«Shut up,» he spat at the demon. «Bubbles, don't listen. Whatever they say is your fault, it's not. You're not at fault. This is all Him's doing.»

«They're all dead because of you,» the one smiled cockily at him. She wasn't staring at the blonde any more, because she knew whatever she was saying was having more effect than he could.

«Bubbles, this isn't you. It's Boomer. You're safe, I'll keep you safe.»

«They had families, you know. And you ended their lives. Puff. Up in smoke. What gave you the right to act like a grim reaper, then cry over it?»

«Go back to hell, demon,» the blond snorted as he blasted the little imp, scaring the crowd. It blew up in red smoke, just like he had expected it to. Boomer took a couple careful steps toward the little girl, god she was skinny, didn't she eat? Hands risen up to show he wasn't armed, he wasn't going to hurt her, everything was going to be fine. The red haze was still moving around like thick maze.

«Bubbles,» he used his softest voice to call her back. He knew how bad the hallucinations could be, and how real they could feel. If he approached her too fast, she would see him as an attacking snake or something. Soft, gentle.

«Bubbles, it's Boomer.» It seemed to work, because she blinked, and sand fell out of the corner of her eyes, blue becoming visible. It did, however, not prevent her from starting to cry and sob uncontrollably. He caught her as her knees gave in under her.

«I got you,» he softly muttered as his strong hands held her tight, afraid she would melt away. Boomer was never going to be a hero, but villains did everything in their power to protect their loved ones, and that is what he intended to. Him was not getting the puff like he had gotten him.

* * *

Alright! It's been a couple too many months since the last update, so don't hate me please! Hope the update is to some kind of satisfaction, and I will try to get back to this story as fast as I can. I was at 8K words the first time when the document totally flipped and every word was replaced by signs instead. It was horrible. At 6K words the document became inoperable, making me loose those words too, so I was a little agitated to get back to write this chapter a third time.

RuffAndPuffLover: Here you go! The update we have all been waiting for!

BlueScarlet465: Seems like we have to wait a little longer to see whom breaks. Hope the new chapter is tasteful and enjoyable hours of reading.

Winterseason2319: You guessed the boys killed the professor? Well done! Cudos to you! Sorry to say there isn't more BcxButch in this chapter, but next will be reeking over with it. Petitpaprika: Thank you for the comment. Sorry to say there is very little green action in this chapter, but there will be more in the next one. Boomer isn't the only protective one.

StraniqueGirl0684: Hey! Thank you for the wonderful and encouraging review. Made me push through the last 5K words this day alone. I know you've expected this update for a while, and I'm happy to introduce it. Hope it's an enjoyable read! There will be more Greens next chapter, fortunately.

Guests: Hey there! I don't know if there are two separate who's commented or if it's just one, but thank you/you guys so much for leaving comments. Here is the followup! Enjoy!

Mr. Aanonymous: About the lemon, I was thinking of adding it in this, but the chapter would have been too long. I'm thinking about adding it later on, seeing as the reds practically have to keep having intercourse and contact to prevent themselves from blowing up or freezing to death. I'm not quite sure what chapters yet, though.

SmittenKitten143: Here's the update! Sorry for the long wait, hope it's enjoyable.

Special thanks to mavlovesblu, BubbleBlue19, devourer of books, Cute Vyper, AllThingsOtaku, 18TSMarley, Tyrell97, petitpaprika, StraniqueGirl0684, Ash141, BabyRedRose, KueenKee, Animalover592, Wolf Goddess of Siberia for following the story, and huge thanks to Bubbleblue19, devourer of books, VuteVyper, AllThingsOtaku, Tyrell97, colbyjo35601, petitpaprika, StraniqueGirl0684, Ash141, KueenKee, Angelz1251, KaryLee and Wolf Goddess of Siberia for adding this to your favorites.

And you silent readers out there! You're all awesome! Remember to leave a comment on your thoughts, and I'll see you next update!


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9. Feelings of hurt

Butch was really tired of Buttercup. He was giving it his best, his all, both body and soul, but no matter how he turned and twisted it, they were just too different. On each their side of the war. She was a puff, and he was a ruff. They could never mix, and it was unrealistic of his father to expect it of him. Was he up to the challenge? Hell yeah. Did he know when to quit? Hell no. Could he handle Buttercup? In a fight yeah, romantically, nope. Never. Unless she got that stick out of her ass, he was going to be right there, getting himself some useful ladies, have a cold drink and take some relaxatives. Fuck this chick and her mood swings. He had better things to use his time on. It wasn't like he needed to do it today, right? Boomer always said love couldn't be rushed. Butch always laughed at him and never took it serious, but he could also bend the rules to his benefit. Buttercup was a tough bitch, okey? And the amount of shit he could take from her was flowing over. Fuck it. He needed some himself time.

Drive her home, because bitches hated being left alone, drop by his favorite bar. It was so very tempting to just dump her sorry ass by the side of the road, but unfortunately, he didn't make the rules. Besides, he was very sure him leaving her for the crows would only make matters worse later. She already couldn't stand him, so why add fuel to the fire?

Butch was very used to getting things his way. Women always stormed to him, bragging about how handsome he was and how they loved what he did to them; he was rich, good looking, and fun. The green ruff always knew how to have a good time, no strings attached, but the mission he had been giving wasn't like that. He needed to swipe her off her feet.

Her temper was really bad – his was even worse, but he was smarter – and she just had to see a motive behind every single one of his actions. Sure, he had motives, but she wasn't suppose to think that. After a couple of nice gestures and jada jada, she was suppose to swoon for him, and he would cash in from his brothers. Brick was the fool to bet a million on him failing, and it was merely pocket coins to them, but it was the principle. Butch liked winning. He wanted to win, but this bitch. God he hated her.

It didn't matter how hard he tried, she was just too much on the good side. Didn't she relax ever? The brunette was so careful around him, and he hadn't robbed a bank in over seven years that the police knew about. Sure, he was a drug dealer and stuff, but that didn't really matter, did it? Maybe she was too much like Blossom on this. Thinking herself better, even if she was the green one. They were chaos, brutes, raw power. Lived for the adrenaline and excitement. They only had one gear level, and that was max.

Buttercup only seemed to shut everything out. If anything, it made him more curious to find out why she was so angry – she had always been, but it was about time to grow out of it – and nothing else. He didn't care for her, just curious. She couldn't know it was their fault the professor died, even if she had accused him several times. He was a master at lying, and she surely would have killed him – if she could – by now if she knew the truth. It had to be something else, but what? What could irk his counterpart this much?

«Butchiboy,» it giggled from the back seat, and even though he could feel the hair at the back of his neck stand up, he just tightened the grip around the steering wheel and glanced at the brunette before in the mirror. She didn't seem to take notice of his sudden stiffness.

He met with those cold eyes and the fake smile. Butch seemed to be the only one not able to forgive the man for what he had done to his little brother and himself, but it rarely blustered up. Maybe he was tired of the bitch. It had been a long couple of days. He had had too much to drink. Any excuse would work, because he was just too fed up with all the bullshit to see Him at the moment. Their eyes locked. Butch knew he looked scary, because his father placed his hand on his chest, giving him his most hurt look.

«If I didn't know better, I'd say you blame your incompetence on me.» Another glance at Buttercup. She was busy with the decolace around them, giving him time to send bodily language as reply. Which consisted of him giving the old man a mean stone stare. To be fair, Him pushing his buttons wasn't exactly helpful when trying to win your nemesis over.

«You were the one bragging about how easy it would get.» Again, more staring, mental thoughts. Didn't seem to get through to the bastard. His right hands knuckles went white. It was a long, straight road in front of them, and he only needed one hand on the wheel.

«And now you're giving up. Just like that. This might actually be your fault.» Like hell it was his fault. He was even going by the book, giving her a job, one he had fired her from in the beginning, spending time with her, which he had demanded, rescued her from the blasted hybrid, which was actually his fault too, but fuck it. He was trying. Giving it his all, and that is what counted. How was this his fault?

«I suppose it would help if you were on equal grounds. Maybe go through a traumatic experience together. It should bond you guys more, shouldn't it? Yes, marvelous idea. I think I like it best when you boys are being good and shut up. It gives daddy some time to think and save you from the failure.» What was he talking about? Make Butters a guy. That would be hilarious, but he didn't swing that way. Two girls. That could be hot. Mega hot. But he wanted to keep the penis, thank you.

«How about loosing your powers and end up in a car accident?» And Butch was reminded why he hated the red devils so badly. Ice went down his back, and he barely blinked before he felt his powers drain. Not the car, he barely managed to think, before he felt the steering wheel twist out of his grip, taking a sharp turn. Too sharp.

«Mother fu-» and the car flipped over. Buttercup was screaming in the distance somewhere, and he wasn't sure if he joined her. He blacked out, with a flower shouting in his ear, but sleep was craving him. Was he hurt? He didn't know. One thing was for sure, he hated his father for his fucking stupid ideas.

The green ruff jolted awake, crashing his head against something hard. Grunting, displeased with himself, he took in the surroundings. The disorientation lasted for a split second as his mind processed what he was seeing. His once beautiful car was wrecked. Demolished by it's own strong horsepower and mother earth. There was no way of saving it. The front was completely smashed to pieces, glass and electronics scattered out like a meadow. It was not a pretty sight. Cursing, he gripped his throbbing head. Something wet adhered to his scalp.

«Meathead, are you awake?» he heard the low voice of his counterpart mutter. She seemed dispirited. Glancing to his left, he saw a huge piece of glass sticking out. It was a warning from Him; he was capable of killing the green ruff at any given moment if provoked just enough, and punish him if he failed. Fuck him. Fuck Buttercup and her stubborn ass. Bells were ringing in the distance. Fuck, it was making his migraine worse.

«Yeah, somewhat,» he slurred. He had a metallic taste in his mouth, probably blood from whatever. What he was most confused about, was the lack of the brunettes body. She was not sitting in the seat beside him. He could have sworn she had been sitting there prior to the crash. His car. His beautiful car.

«Check the mirror,» she butted in on his thoughts, and he did. It was half way broken, but he could see. She lay on her back in the seat, foot crushed under a pile of metal. It seemed like she had tried to wiggle around, but refused against it. Blood was smeared everywhere and she was very pale. It looked like she had earned herself a black eye, but it could be the blood. It was splattered all over her. Who's blood was it? Surely not hers. No way could she survive the massive blood loss.

«How did you-?» It was hard to speak. His jaw was probably fractured, but he didn't know to what extent. The words weren't gibberish, not so much at least, but it did hurt to talk.

«Your seat belt gave in on me. I tumbled around before we came to a halt, and tada,» she waved at the trapped part of her body, a weak smile. This was not good. She was past the stage of shock, ready to close her eyes and fall asleep. He had watched it in movies several times. It meant death was close by.

«I tried calling out to you but you seemed to have fainted and you're covered in blood. Get over here and break me free so you can take me to the hospital. Again. I hate you, you know that?» she smiled at him, and Butch felt something close to concern. Why was she smiling like that? She should be barking at him with all of her power. Blame him for this stupid thing that had happened, yell, scream, cry. Maybe not cry, but something close to screeching with madness, rage and anger. Come at him like the storm she was. It felt like she was giving up. So lifeless, so unlike the infamous power of Buttercup.

«Yeah, hate you too, Butters,» he leered himself out, feeling a couple of juicy bruises here and there, before he wiggled himself to the back, careful not to touch her. It was rather hard, considering she was trapped in the middle of the seats. What if he made matters worse? She was so relaxed, he was afraid she would slip away at any second. Be a bitch, his inner self was urging, but he couldn't make himself demand it off her.

He pushed at the metal, gave it his all, but it didn't budge. What was wrong with him? Wasn't like a normal car crash should matter. Maybe he had hit his head too hard? She didn't say anything as he struggled, and then flashes came back to him.

 _«How about loosing your powers and end up in a car accident?»_

«Son of a bitch!» He screamed. Of course the madman would place them in this sort of situation, but it seemed like things had gone way too far. The injury was way too serious to be brushed off. How was he suppose to get her to the hospital if he couldn't fly? He was powerless to do anything. He couldn't help her.

«Meathead,» she repeated, trying to get his attention, but the green ruff was too far in to a panic attack to pay her any attention. He was going to kill Him! How dared he take his powers away like this? What gave him the right? He messed with the wrong ruff! Slapping him weakly at the side, she managed to pull him back to reality.

«Butch, my phone was wrecked, but maybe yours is okey. Call for help.» That was a good idea, he blinked stupidly. Searching his pockets he realized it wasn't there, and found himself glancing at her for help. It was an odd, weak moment for him, but luckily she was too far gone to mock. Right now. She probably would when they got out of there. They were getting out of there, no questions asked. Hands down. Buttercup was way too strong to just give up to something so silly as a crushed foot. Or whatever else was wrong with her. She was the toughest bitch he knew.

He might have hit his head harder then first thought, because he felt around himself before he started gaining control. Didn't seem like the phone was in his pocket, so he roamed around on the floor before his hand got badly cut. Cursing, both from the unexpected sting and frustration, he got more careful. After adjusting a couple times, careful to not bump his counterpart – no need to make matters worse – he noticed how she was starting to slip away.

The green eyes were lifeless and she was barely breathing. Hell, was she even this pale to begin with? That damn phone! Where was it? In the movies he had seen, they always urged people to stay awake. If they fell asleep, that was it.

«Hey, Butters. Why do you hate me so much?» Cliche and stupid, he knew, but he couldn't focus long enough to find something real to talk about. The weather? Laughable. Gee, sure. It could have worked, but he didn't want her to stare at the sky. Somehow, the thought scared him, or agitated him more. Butch didn't get scared. Never. Ever.

«You're a ruff,» she shrugged, or tried. Her strength was so drained, the attempt was rather pathetic, and she gave up half way through. To be fair, the argument was reasonable and fair enough, but he couldn't just say 'okey, sure' and be over with it like that. He needed to keep her awake. That's what every movie had told him. If she fell asleep, she was a goner.

«But I'm so nice to you, and I haven't stolen anything since at least last week. At least. That gotta count for something, right?» His voice was intended to sound humorous and joking, but he couldn't muster more than a half ass smile that he wanted to punch himself for. It wasn't in the back seat. Climbing like a puppy through a small door, hands and feet everywhere, he managed to eel himself to the front seat, and gained another cut. This one across the cheek. The crimson liquid surging down his cheek was warm and sticky. His already covered face – he caught a glimpse of it in one of the glass shards – made him look like he was in a war zone.

It was worse than the one on his hand, and he wiped the flooding blood away with an annoying gesture. He looked like he had crawled through a war zone. Was it just his blood? If it was Buttercups... Why was there so much glass everywhere? God damn it. He was going to kill Him when he got out of there. Not only had he placed Buttercup in this ridiculous situation, but here he was himself, powerless to do something about it. Child abuse is what it was. And the rules applied to the devil too, that sneaky bastard.

«Yeah,» he heard her whisper, an odd beeping sound coming from her lounges. Shit, that couldn't be good. Butch was starting to panic again. It was making it hard to concentrate because he kept glancing at her, making sure her chest was moving up and down. He couldn't do a strategically search, and went over the same areas over and over again, until he concluded that it wasn't there. His phone was no where to be seen. What kind of joke was this?

«I can't find it,» he stuttered, flipping broken glass – fuck the cuts, he was a man wasn't he? - and moving wrecked metal pieces. He roamed around the corners he could reach and jumped back and forth. «I can't find the phone, Butterfly. It's not here.»

«Maybe it's not in the car?» she groaned. The physical pain she was in was getting to him, making him sick to his stomach. The pain she was feeling felt like his own, but she was on to something. Hers was wrecked outside, so maybe his was less wrecked? One could hope. Climbing out of the window, earning a couple battle scars across his arms and back, he rolled off and jumped straight to his feet.

Running back and forth, he was starting to feel a heavy weight on his chest. Shit. She was going to die, just because Him thought he was funny and smart. He wasn't. Not at all, and this was just stressing him out and not helping them. How was she going to like him if she died? And for all she knew, it was his fault. He was driving, he had flipped the car over. He had done this to them. Hell, he wouldn't forgive himself, even if it wasn't his fault. It was him, and he couldn't tell her.

 _Hey, my father did this so you would fall in love with me, and by the way, I'm in cahoot to break you and your sisters. How about giving me a huge smooch where it counts and let's call it a day, eh?_ Yeah, fuck. Fuck this shit. He was so out. Buttercup was hot, but not worth dying for. God damn. Maybe Brick and Boomer was that dedicated to the given mission, but he wasn't. Nope, nada. The green ruff simply had too much to live for. So many drugs he hadn't tried. So many women, seen places, experienced things. Shit, his vision was failing him, and he was panting hard. Was he at a blood loss? Shit. Fuck. Balls.

What would Brick do? Probably have taken her out to diner or something, but he just had to take her camping to train and do green stuff. Stuff the brutes liked to do. And he had failed so hard doing it to. Make Buttercup fall for him? He was so damn lame. Like hell he could. Fuck.

Just as he was about to give up, he noticed it. Rushing over as fast his mundane feet could, he picked it up, begging for it to be alright. The screen was badly broken, but it lit up when he touched the home button. Yes, yes, yes! He mentally cheered as he called the emergency number. The buzzing was dreadful long, before someone answered.

«Hello, what's your emergency?» a man, too cheery for the situation, chirped.

«I crashed, and she's trapped, and I can't get her out, and she's so pale. I don't know how long she will hold on and you have to send help, the car is a wreck. I can't pull her out, and her leg is trapped and she's barely able to speak and there's an odd sound coming from her breathing. There is so much blood, and I don't know if it's mine or hers, and-»

«Calm down sir. Tell me where you are, I will send help right away.»

«I, uh, I,» Butch stuttered, unable to find any useful words after having ranted the poor mans ears full of his incomprehensible rambling. Breathing heavily, he couldn't remember getting tired, but he was so out of breath. They needed to know and get there before she faded away. Glancing around, stretching his back out to stare with the harsh sun in his face, he managed to find a half working answer. Was that a rock or a tree? God, it was so blurry. Too blurry to see anything. Shadows were taunting him in the corners of his eyes. So tired. What he wouldn't give to lie down and just sleep until they came. But he couldn't. Buttercup would die.

«Help is on it's way. Do you want to stay on the phone with me until they get there, sir?» He was so calm, warm, almost like his blond brother. Butch knew he was panicking, but he was powerless to stop it from happening. Maybe this stranger could talk some sense in to him. He nodded, before answering shaken. Breathing was hard. It felt like he couldn't get enough air, and his muscles were tightening up, preventing him from filling his tired lounges. Shit. Fuck. Balls.

«Listen, it's very important that you keep her awake and-» The hone went completely silent. Was he leaving him like that? What could be more inportant than a freaked out victim of a car crash, another dying, crushed between the hard metal?

«And?» Butch asked, but the beeping indicated the death of his technological friend. «No, no, no, no, no, no,» he stared pleadingly at the black screen, before it buzzed one last time and was gone. Rage consumed him, and he threw the damn thing as long as he could. It wasn't very far, considering how tired he was. His shoulder started aching, and he slumped over.

What to do, what to do, what to- the man said to go back to Buttercup and keep her awake. He could do that. If there was something he was good at, it was talking to people and socialize. Keep her awake. Oh, boy.

«Hey, Butters,» he said as soft he could, taking a place beside her. The backtracking had gained him more gashes, but fuck it. Wasn't like he would bleed to death with loosing a couple more drops. She was so still, he would have thought she had faded away hadn't her chest been moving. He had to call her name a couple of times for her to wake, eyes barely cracking open.

«What?» she grumpily said, as if he had robbed her of the most honorable death. Her spite was making him calm; she still had spirit to go up against him, and it was a healthy sign. Calm and quiet people scared him, because he never knew what they were thinking. Buttercup was always loud, screaming at him and cursing, voicing her mind. He liked it. It was probably one of the few reasons – a very small percentage of it – he was bugging her. Pushing her buttons and annoying her until she wanted to cry. But she never cried. She was strong like that.

«I called for help, and they told me you're not suppose to sleep. Wouldn't want you dying in my beautiful car now would we?» He grinned at her, making the corner of her lip twitch. Just twitch. Death spasm.

«Dying, huh?» she muttered more to herself than anyone in particular. «If I do die-»

«Which you wont.»

«Moron, I'm talking, so shut up. If I die, I want you to tell my sisters that Blossom is getting my apartment and clothes, and that I love Bubbles.»

«Not Blossom?»

«Of course I love the redhead too, but she knows it. Her ego is bigger than yours,» and there it was. The pretty smile he was trying to pull out of her. Butch couldn't help it. He both liked and hated it. It was meant to shine bright and make him go wild – with fighting spirit, mind you – but this was just bad. It made him uncertain, weak, worried. He didn't like it.

«Ego? Me? Bitch, please. I'm the best and you know it.» They shared a laugh, but she was weak. The laugh he had heard the day before at the camp fire as they had talked and bonded. He had thought he had had her, but she was sneaky and danced out of his grip with the soft skin and the makeup free face. Truth was she had stripped and lay herself to bed, but it was so fun teasing her. And he probably would have undressed her if given the chance. She was a natural beauty – hey, he wasn't blind, even he could tell she was nice looking – and frankly didn't need any cosmetics. It was the way she had always been, and he respected her for that. Butch didn't adore people, that was for the weak and Boomer. Never mind, it was the same thing.

«Yeah. You're a real douche bag and a fucking pain in the ass. But you know what, Butch? You're alright. Under all the sarcasm and shit you call a face, you're alright.»

«Hey, don't. If you're going to be all mushy and lovey with me, at least say it when you mean it. Or suck my dick. I can accept that too.» Her eyes opened and he could see how clear they were. Like the meadow in the summer, wind brushing lightly through it, seagulls crying in the distance. She was serious, and he felt a jolt of pain in the pit of his stomach. God, he was a jerk. Using her like this, and she was actually falling for it. In her death, at that, but she was still changing her mind about him. Maybe she had always thought this about him. She was a green, they never said nice things nor showed what they really felt. He knew her better than she knew herself, yet he had not really seen her. Fuck. Shit. Balls. Balls, fuck, shit? Shit. Fuck. Balls.

«I do mean it. You clean up well when you want,» she closed her eyes and chuckled. He didn't like it. Buttercup didn't praise people. She wasn't nice. She was a bitch. The best kind of bitch.

«Hey, you have to stay awake. Open your eyes. The help isn't far away, Butterfly.» He didn't mean for his voice to rise like that, to shake her when she didn't respond, and hold her close when he barely could feel her pulse. Butch didn't mean to get so emotionally attached to his enemy, but he was. Be it a bitch or not, she was still his counterpart. The only person in the world who was capable of understanding him.

«Shit, why can't you just yell at me instead I deserve your wrath for this, come on. Call me an asshole. A douche bag. A fuckface. You can't just say nice things like that and then walk away. It's not fair. Did you consider what it would do to me? You coward! You better hold on and get through this, because I'll be damned if I can't see you again. I know I'm a jerk, okey? Open your eyes, Butterfly. Come on!» He cradled her closer, as if he was physically holding her soul in place, refusing it to leave. And he was. She was not leaving him like that.

* * *

Blossom was mad at herself; not for inviting her boss and former – actually now also – enemy inside her sisters apartment, nor for falling for his logic of a solution to their problem. No, if she could pass upon the fainting, minute lasting deaths, strange dreams and horrible cold, she took it. No questions asked, bring on the dicks. What she couldn't forgive herself for was falling for the feelings inside her chest. It was the drug talking when they had done the dirty, but a part of her had willingly let it happen. It was easy to say in the aftermath that it didn't mean anything, it was just sex and a desperate need to stay alive, but she was too smart for that. She knew what she had felt, and it was shaking the core of her soul. Her very being. She didn't like it, it wasn't welcome, and she would make sure it left before it could stick its unwanted, ugly roots in her.

The last person she would let take a peak inside her head, and taint her feelings, was the bastard that had stolen her from her perfect job in Europe, brought her back to the town with all the painful memories she wanted to forget, and was currently invading her personal space. By the end of it all, she was so ashamed of herself she wanted to poke his eyes out and demand him to leave. Her being be damned; she would rather freeze to death than accept this as real. Bad dream. Bad dream.

Brick was relaxing in the sofa, head leaned back and arms resting on the back. Their eyes were locked, the same despise she felt and aimed at him, reflected back at her. Somehow, the aura of smoking hot was vibrating in the air. Naked like the day he was born, a soft blanket covering the most important part. Even if he didn't cover his whole holy, fantastic, god working wonder, she wouldn't avert her eyes in awkwardness by pure stubbornness. Like hell she would let him see he intimidated her, dominated her after having legally violated her body. Blossom was standing straight, close enough to feel the wall behind her, but not enough for it to actually touch her. It was hard to control her breathing, make it as even as possible considering her body was still lit with fire and lust, but she was a leader. A commander. She was making the decision, not her body, not her hormones, not the fucking fake concoction Brick had forced down her throat – which she still wasn't sure how he had managed to do – and not the pushy, cocky, asshat of a ruff.

She took notice of the clench in his jaw; the one she knew by heart, and gloated over. It meant he was bothered by the event just as much as she was. It was frankly insulting. Blossom was excellent at sex, be it superhuman or not, and it frustrating to admit he was her best partner so far. Being a counterpart meant they knew what the other wanted, and she hated him for it. Hench, the glare. It acknowledged his skills to satisfy her sexually, but she hated him none the less. Probably, from her biting of her inner cheek, he also knew how she was feeling.

The silence wasn't awkward. A silent battle went between them – both wanted to be best, but only one could be the best – and he didn't give her any indication of leaving. What if her blonde sister came barging in the door and saw them? What if Buttercup felt like dropping off earlier due to whatever? Didn't matter what their reasons was; she couldn't be seen like that. In nothing but a lousy cover, a naked ruff in a borrowed apartment Buttercup would have to live with afterward – her tips would be to burn the sofa, the walls and the rug on the floor that was beyond saving from the different body fluids – and her obvious flustered cheeks. God, could they be more obvious? Could she hate her life some more? What was the next things? Him dancing a parade for them, Buttercup teasing her about an incoming pregnancy – which wasn't happening in a million years – and Bubbles planning an imaginary wedding. Damn him.

If her powers were working, she would have ripped his hair out, making him bald. Killing wasn't her thing, more of a Buttercup one, but she would make sure to give him a living hell. How could thing have boiled down to this? Where had she gone wrong on her life?

She had graduated at the top of her class, had a respective job – she sucked socially but it didn't exactly matter in the long run – and a fairly good relationship with her sisters. And he just had to storm in to her life and drag her down the road to hell, turning her plans up side down, making her his personal walking experiment, toying with her feelings and ruin sex due to her high expectation from her future partners. Bad Blossom, forget that part. It wasn't worth thinking about. It was only mouth watering and head spinning delicious, but damn. Stop.

«You have to go,» she managed to break herself out from the destructive thoughts, but it did very little to her stiff posture. Breath was uneven, muscles tense, thoughts of moving urged her forward, sidewards, here, there, gone, but she couldn't. She was stuck at the spot, under his crimson gaze.

It was the oxytocin talking, but god she loved the heavenly, unique color of his eyes. It was so intense, intelligent, dominant. Pushing at her, making her want to fire up and shove back with all of her might. It was the perfect combination of raw power, mental challenge and physics. And she loathed him for making her feel like this. It was weakness.

«Scared your sisters will come home and discover what you've allowed yourself?» a part of Butch was showing through, but she wasn't sure if that was the case. Brick had always been a cocky prick, so sure of himself and quick to throw her to the wolves, rub it in her face if she had a slight chance of being wrong. If she was wrong, there was no end to it. The redhead would go about it months upon months to no end. From the twitch at the corner of his lip, she could tell he wasn't done. Neither was she, but she had gained enough self control to deny herself what her body was craving. His whole being was intoxicating, and she needed to throw him out, before it evolved to something else.

Scoffing, she lifted her chin. Like a master to her bitch, she took a step forward, the first movement any of them had made, and she was damn proud of herself for taking it. Brick was good at taunting and turning on her, but she knew his buttons as well. The I-know-everything-about-you-because-I'm-your-counterpart didn't just go one way.

«Have you become attached to me, ruff? If you got what you wanted, why are you still here? Want me to kiss you out the door like the good little boy you are?» she winked at him, groaning inwards. Shit she felt lame, but it was working. Brick growled and rose form his seat. The blanked fell from his beautiful, well trained form, heating her ears. Her body was reacting to what her eyes were seeing, but mind over matter. She was the strongest mentally. She had this.

«Like you're not craving for more. I can smell it all the way over here, whore.»

«Leave,» the redhead snarled at him. Mouth open, probably a witty comment on his tongue, they were interrupted by the sound of a ringing tone. Busy staring each other down – when had he gotten over the table and up to her? Had she been that lost in the backlashing? - she broke away frist. It was hers after all. Ignoring the smug smirk, she trotted over the floor and picked it up. It was an unknown number.

«Blossom speaking,» she spoke. Seconds later something soft touched the bare of her back, making her throw a killer look over her shoulder. Brick was standing there, a serious face as he studied her soft skin – seriously, it was just skin – as his hands went from circling fingers to massaging hands. She wanted to groan and lean it closer, letting herself be seduced by the little imp, but threw an annoyed hand his way instead. He swatted it away, as if he was the impatient one and went back to torturing her.

«This is Townsville hospital, ma'am,» the young man on the other end said. He was calm, low in voice and it was sending shivers down her spine. Not the good kind that made you wriggle around and open yourself for more pleasure. This was the kind best described as 'someone just walked over your grave'.

«Who're you talking to?» Brick muttered in her other ear, sending goosebumps up and down her arms. His grip on her hips was firm, his stiffness pushed up against her rear end. He was leaning over her back, urging her to bend over and drop the towel, and Blossom would have let him. Take a huge grip at her hair, fondle her chest at the same time, slam hard against her butt.

«Fuck off.» It shocked even her, because she wasn't one to take to harsh words. Being a goodie goodie two shoes meant she didn't cuss, she didn't resort to violence to get her way nor provoke others, but the rules didn't apply at the moment. Something was wrong, she could feel it deep down in her soul, and it was scaring her. Frightening her enough to push the sexy man off her and concentrate on the other end.

«We just came from a car wreck a couple miles outside of the city, and your sister is in a critical condition. It would be best if you came down here to get more information.»

«Which one?» she heard her shaking voice mutter, but her mind was going blank. Trembling, she felt tears at the corner of her eyes. It could be the hormones affecting her – it definitely was the hormones doing the talking – but her chest tightened up. She was scared.

«Buttercup, ma'am.» Her mouth was dry. The fucker had finally done it. Butch would be the end of her sister, and she was going to kill him for it. How could she have been so stupid as to let her go off with that good for nothing ruff? It was doomed to go this way, and she was the worst sister in the whole world for not doing something. It was obvious, it always happened. Wherever the greens clashed, they always got hurt. Buttercup had lost her powers. She couldn't take Butch on. Fuck. Fuck!

«We'll be there,» Brick spoke in to the line as he picked the phone out of her weak grip and hung up. It woke the redhead to life and she punched as hard she could at him. This was all their fault. They were the cause of this. Fuck Brick and his good for nothing, sadistic tendency, Butch and his reckless behavior. This was it. They weren't getting near any of them ever again, and when her sister got better, she was taking them and getting the hell out of this blasted town. Bye bye Fuckville. Herself be damned. She freeze to death if she got her sisters to safety.

«Get dressed,» was all he said, awkward in voice. As Brick moved away and picked up a boxer, indicating he was serious about them leaving for the hospital, she moved with lightning speed. The blanket fell to the floor – or had it fallen before? - and she rushed for her underwear. In a swift movement was she roaming for a shirt and pants. She had to be looking quite stupid there she was crawling around on the floor like a horse with her ass in the air. The worst thing about it was that it couldn't be helped. She was in shock, and her brain wasn't working as it normally would.

Blossom was bad when it came to biting her nails. It was a habit she had picked up from nowhere, and she often found it easier to think when she was under pressure with some extra protein in her system. Brick didn't make fun of her. He didn't say anything as he pointed her to his car – had he driven there? - and took of at a raging speed. Normally she would be nervous about the pace, at him cutting swings and rushing to get every traffic light, but it didn't matter at the point. He was an excellent driver, not that she was ever going to tell him that, and they were at the hospital in no time, her fingers bleeding.

The redhead jumped out of the car before it came to a halt and rushed down the doors. Her heart was beating loudly, obnoxious in her chest, making it hard to think. It was her hormones overreacting, her head spinning up these lively imaginations, but it felt so real. The breath of death was chilling down her spine as she watched nurses, doctors, assistants walk in a storm of chaos. On the surface, they seemed so calm, so collected with gestures, orders and their internal body language, but she could tell it was busy as a hive. They were keeping up a fasade to calm the watching eye.

She felt high. Or drugged in general. Registering her surroundings had never been so hard before, and she watched as she asked for her sister, introducing herself and nodding while following the smiling man. He didn't take notice of her stiff posture, he couldn't see how tense, how scared and vulnerable she was and how distant her brain was making itself. Digging itself under a pile of darkness to keep the emotions away, her body mechanic like a robot and her already wrecked self – gee, she probably had a couple of nasty bruises from their intercourse – collected. If she allowed herself to feel anything, to take control from her defense system, Blossom was sure she would have a mental breakdown. A physical melt down. It would be bloody, loud and snotty. Very snotty.

«I'm afraid you will have to wait in the waiting room, she's currently in surgery.»

«How is she?» she heard her distant voice. It was like watching a movie from first person view. She had a limited overview, but she couldn't movie. The moves were already decided for her, and she could only watch, gather all her feels up in one place like dust on the floor, and hope for the best.

«Her condition is not the best, but worry not. We have the best doctors in the district. She's in great hands,» he reassured her. His hair was dark, short. He had kind, blue eyes like the sky and a warm smile. Some of her stiffness washed off as he lay a hand on her shoulder, gave it a soft squeeze, then walked off, muttering.

The would came crashing around her, and she was suddenly so very tired. The redhead wanted to go to sleep and not wake up until next week. Food and toilet breaks didn't count, but she could eat lying down. No problem. On the other hand was she too worried and stressed be able to feed on anything.

Someone took the seat beside her, and she glanced through her hair. Brick didn't say anything. He didn't look at her, he just sat there. Somehow, the silence between them was nice. The puff took the time to study the man. He had a strong jaw, natural arching eyebrows and a displeased drag around the mouth. It almost made her smile. With his hands crossed over his chest, she took notice of how broad his shoulders really were. It was probably her fault, because he was wearing a white t-shirt and the jeans. Thinking closer about it, she couldn't remember what he had wore, storming in the window.

He had been bare chested. Then where – fuck. It was her t-shirt he had taken in the rush, and it was the one she slept with. It was probably giving off an odd odor. Suited him right. Coming over to her sisters place, sleeping with her, making her feel good. Suffer. Smell the stench. Asshat.

Tears were stinging in her eyes, but she blinked them away. They were just as unwanted as her feelings for her counterpart – which was just the drug talking, she didn't like Brick or anything. Not in a million years – and she would be damned if she was going to cry like this. Stupid hormones.

«You were driving, weren't you?» Brick suddenly said, catching her attention. What the hell was he on about? He had been the one driving them here. Right? It wasn't something she had imagined? Her, speeding? Maybe. Possibly. Buttercup was in a critical condition, and she had failed as a big sister. Yeah, she could see herself speeding to get to the hospital, even if her being there didn't help squat.

«Yeah,» the rough answer came. Confused, because it had not been her talking, she glanced over Brick and at the other person. She had totally ignored the fact that there had been other people in the room, or just one in fact. Butch was staring at the door, as if it would make the doctors work faster. His foot was tapping with incredible speed, and his shoulders so tense they almost penetrated his ears.

«Moron,» Brick sat back, his loose hair making him look like a rock star from the 80s. His question finally caught up with her slow brain. Butch had been driving.

«You what?» Her growl came from the pit of her stomach, the girl hurling herself at the green ruff. He did nothing to defend herself as she pulled him by the collar, furiously staring him down. It wasn't very difficult, considering he was still sitting and she was standing.

«You were driving? What have you done? Is this a joke to you? I told you to stay away from Buttercup! How could you put her in danger like this? Even for a villain, this is pathetic. What the heck, Butch? Why are you trying to kill her? We've done nothing to you lousy ruffs!»

«Bloss,» Brick warned, but she ignored him completely. He wasn't a part of this.

«Fuck off,» Butch snorted, averting his gaze.

«This is just another game to you, isn't it? Toying with peoples lives and thinking yourself over them? I should never have let her go with you, the debt be damned. She's in critical condition. Are you even capable of understanding what that means? She could die!»

«I know,» he roared at her, rising from his seat, pushing up against her. Blossom saw the anger behind his eyes, she felt the sadness in his breath and remorse in his twitching muscles. She also noticed how he looked like shit. He had a smashing bruise around his jaw, probably dislocated badly or fractured, stitches and bandages. Old blood was dried in his face, and she found herself wondering if it was just his. Butch looked like he had been dragged behind a horse on rocks for miles. Nothing appeared to be broken, but he was pretty beat up.

«I know.» There was so much more he wanted to tell her, she understood, but he didn't. He let her have the benefit of barking and blaming him for everything that had happened, because he was blaming himself.

«Bloss, it might be about time to call your other sister,» Brick broke in between them, separating the children. They had been crushing chests against each other, like angry, puffy birds, and once torn apart, they moved longer away. Butch found his place at the very end of the room, back to his staring at the door. He should probably be lying down, resting. He could suffer too, for all she cared. In her eyes, he was the fault of this. Despite blaming him, she couldn't hate him. Butch was just as worried as she was, and she didn't like the feeling.

Fingers foundling for a couple of seconds, she picked up the phone and clicked the call button. Her sisters were the first on her list, she had changed their names so she could easily get a hold of them. The dial tone ran in her ear a couple of seconds, before it stopped. Grunting on the other end she heard the disoriented 'hello' from Bubbles. Had she been sleeping?

«You have to come down to the hospital, now.» No need to worry her more than necessary.

«Why? Is something up? You're not hurt, are you?» Her groggy voice became very much alive as her brain kicked in.

«No, just come down here,» she muttered. Couldn't lie to the blonde girl, never felt right when she had. A one-hand-digit was her all time record, and it had only gotten harder with the years.

«Blossom?» She sounded scared. Damn. She had really done it now.

«It's going to be alright. Could you please just come down here? If you're close to home, just know the car is there. I left the keys on the kitchen table.» The blonde agreed on the other end, not convinced as she hung up. They didn't talk more.

The redhead took notice of how the brothers were sitting next to each other, Bricks mouth moving furiously, but too low for her to hear anything. Not wanting to intrude – even though she should have, they were villeins and probably up to no good – she took the seat furthest away from them. She feared she would try to kill the man if she was too close to him. Butch had a very dangerous being about him. He radiated of confidence, more than Brick, and she couldn't stand him, did whatever he pleased without taking others in to consideration and she had never seen him serious about anything. The man joked about rape, murder, drugs, you name it. The green was the part of humans Blossom hated, and he had just added another reason to the list of her dismay of him.

Brick was at least ambitious. The world dominating kind, but still had a goal in life. Butch didn't care. He lived each day as it was handed to him, and it made her angry. How could he be so careless and dismiss life like that, go about doing nothing important, fade away in history as if never existed. He was a bad influence. Buttercup had wanted to own her own bar, be in a band, or – silly enough – a mechanic. She loved work, but her counterpart was a party a party boy. She didn't approve.

«Hey, guys. Oh, gosh, Butch. You're really hurt, are you alright?» Bubbles broke her out of her train of thoughts, scaring the living shit out of her. She shoot to her feet, coming to a halt. There wasn't exactly a plan after that, so she just stood there for a couple of seconds. The green ruff didn't say anything; he didn't even acknowledge her presence. He was too busy with the door, looking for any clue, any movement. Anything. It hit her how he might be using his x-ray vision to follow the surgery. If only she had her powers, she would do the same.

«Where is Buttercup?» a blond man said behind her sister. He had darker eyes, but the same softness. She recognized him instantly.

«She's in surgery. We don't know much yet, but it's critical.» The smile on her younger sisters face faded off. Dark circles under her eyes became visible, and she took notice of how pale she was. Had something happened? For some unexplained reason, she felt like she was looking at a different person. Not the bubbly Bubble that squealed at the sight of animals and cried if cake was spilled.

«What-»

«There was a car accident,» Blossom couldn't help her eyes darting accusingly toward the counterpart of her injured sister. The blonde took it quickly, put two and two together as she saw how he was hurt. With lighting speed, she stormed off toward the ruff, ready to initiate round two with earthly beauty.

«I'm going to kill you,» the sweet girl wasn't so sweet anymore said as she wrapped her hands around his throat. It brought the group to live as he struggled to get out, eyes huge and dangerously close to popping out. Despite her desire to do the same, Blossom couldn't just stand by and watch.

Brick was the first to react. He broke the lock right after her hands had touched her neck, given him a small taste of her inhuman power, and pushed her further away. She only had eyes for the sinner, but he was strong. Boomer was the second to take action as he pulled the blonde further away, revealing his older brother from the disturbing work.

«Crazy bitch,» Butch coughed.

«Shut up,» Brick ordered with a deadly glare, before he faced the powerpuff leader. They stood there, measuring each other up and down, before he sighed.

«We have to team up.»

«For what?» she asked, tilting her head. There was nothing else she wanted to do than spit him in the face and tell him to get out of there, but she was the leader. Brick had taken her to the hospital, prevented her sister from becoming a murder and actually been very sweet with her in bed. It was the hormones and Stockholm syndrome talking and everything, she knew. But she could be objective about it too, and Brick was a good laid. He had screwed her life over, turned it up side down, made her go against herself, push her in to difficult situations and made her hate her life and want to give up, but he had his moments.

«Taking my father down.»

* * *

Lucas Utonium was John Utoniums little brother. Both brothers had dark hair and while John had chocolate eyes, Lucas had beautiful green ones. They were born a year apart, both in Towsville. John was the proudest big brother in the whole city. He walked his kid brother to school, took him home, hung out with him in their spare time, and helped him with homework. It was like having a mini me, the spit, younger image of himself. The older brother was a bookworm. He stuck to the books and was the top of his class, but he wasn't very good at athletics. The male wanted to spend his time studying to be a scientist, explore the universe and become famous. The little heart dreamed of changing the world to a better place, unlike his little brother. The younger brunette was more of a free spirit, dreaming to own his own bar, travel the world and live life as it was given to him. He often broke his feet or hands, but even as they fixed him back up, he would smile and proudly show off his achievement. While the oldest planned his future, the younger took it each day at a time. They were as different as day and night, but despite their differences, they stuck close.

It wasn't til they were elder, when their parents died in a accident and John was forced to take care of the youngest, he realized just how different they were. Lucas would sneak out at nights, party with his friends, and skip school for favor of sleep in the morning. It didn't take long for them to headbutt and walk each their way. Things became awkward after that.

They only stayed in contact when they had to. Birthdays, Christmas, thanks giving. Even when they did meet and talk, things were stiff between them. John went on with his life, studying to get a PhD, while Lucas sold drugs and worked at a mechanics shop to get by. Their talks were inflexible and formal. How is the weather? Quite nice. How are you doing? Like always.

Lucas was the open, free spirit of them, and anyone who knew the man didn't find it surprising when he came out as a girl. He didn't feel right in his own body, and most accepted him for it. John couldn't. Staring at his younger brother wearing a skirt and makeup broke his heart to the point of hating him. The male became more and more bitter and angry every time they saw each other, until they exploded. He despised his brothers, talked about how he brought shame to their dead parents, and the argument quickly turned violent, before they both stormed off.

A couple of years after, he heard from a friend of Lucas how the man had been in an accident and died. Overdose everyone called it. Suicide the shadows whispered. Numb inside, the man with no living relatives went to visit his brothers grave. He had enough money to request him laid beside their parents. The few times he went and allowed himself the grieving, were the only times important to him.

They didn't see eye to eye, but the older brother always wept at the grave. He emptied his heart, told him everything he couldn't when he had been alive. How he had regretted his own stupidity. How he had been too narrow minded to accept and see his brother for what he was, despite being trained to have an open mind with science. He had failed. As a brother. As family. As a friend.

A couple of years later, John had an accident in the lab, but it wasn't just any accident. It would make him world famous.

 _Sugar, spice and everything nice. These were the ingredients chosen to create the perfect little girls, but professor Utonium accidentally added an extra ingredient to the concoction. Chemical-x._

The mix went up in a blast, sending the older man flying for the wall. Glass flew all over the place, shattering, papers twirling in the air. Grunting from the surprise, but quite used to different reactions from his experiments, he glanced through his eyelashes to stare at the bright glow.

 _Thus the Powerpuff girls were born. Using their ultra super powers; Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup have dedicated their lives to fighting crime and the forces of evil!_

John had very little experience taking care of children, but they proved again and again how capable they were at taking care of themselves and each other. He was strict with how they treated each other, because he was not having a repetition of his youth. The girls were never to know nor feel the pain John had felt. Nor have the chance to blame themselves with hateful regret.

As a parent, he had very little clue to what he was doing, but he always tried his best. Bought them what they needed, worried like any other parent when they were out fighting crime, if normal children could fight crime, grounded them if they did something bad. Buttercup reminded him very much of his brother Lucas, but he still loved her equally as much as the two others.

They had become his joy and pride. To some extent, his life was not sad or gray anymore. John was feeling good again, and for the short time he was given, he forgot the past and its darkness.

Until one night the girls were eight years old, tucked in bed, going to school in the morning and tired from fighting monsters. John was spending his time in his private laboratory, trying new mixtures and taking notes. Blossom had taken quite a notice of his work, and he was overjoyed to see her willingly choose the same path he had taken. Maybe not quite the same, but toward science.

It was dark outside, and he was too busy with his own thoughts and equations, he didn't notice the sneaking shadow before it was upon him. It started with a chill running down his spine, before a cold laughter reached his ear. Scared, the brunette jumped in his chair and glanced over his shoulder.

John had seen many weird things in his life, but he never expected anything close to what he was witnessing at that point. His brother, Lucas, was suddenly standing behind him like nothing had happened, his short, dark hair pulled back. But the signature, cocky grin was in place. Just like he had remembered. The green eyes shone.

«Lucas,» John laughed, the first feeling to hit him was happiness. To see his brother again. He wanted to cry, apologize, tell him how he did – after all this time – regretted not accepting him, because it had been none of his business. He loved his brother for whomever he chose to be, not the person John had wanted him to be.

«John,» his voice freezing, venom dripping from his word. It was clear he hated his brother, and it stopped the man on track. Professor Utonium had intended to go in for a hug, but he did not. He still wanted to, but it was clear Lucas was not in the mood for it. The rest of the appearance was then taken in.

«You're so pale, Lucas. How can this be? I saw your body, I was there when we lowered the cascet,» John asked, a genuine question. Whatever the answer could have been, he was not expecting his brothers bitter laugh. The blaming that came after, that it was his fault he was dead and turned in to a haunting spirit – that he could in fact have called out and seen coming, yet he was too bedazzled to do so – and how he was there to take revenge.

«I see you've made yourself a family. While I'm rotting in this living hell, you're living the life with children of your own. You never even wanted children. I wanted them, but I was never given the chance.»

«I'm sorry,» was all the older brother could say, tears streaming down his face. He was sorry. Genuinely sorry. If he could go back and change things, he would. How many times hadn't he been up studying the art of time travel? Resurrecting the dead? Any kind of fantasy that could help ease his guilt and regret. All of his free time had gone to that for a couple of years, before he had realized how impossible it was. With the logic of science, he saw traveling to the future as a possibility, but never back. Once in the future, you could only continue forward. There was no going back. No taking back what had happened. No making up for his mistakes. He was forced to live with them for the rest of his life. Until he died. What was dead, stayed dead.

«Yeah, because you being sorry makes everything good. Do you know what this is like, John? How much suffering I had to endure? How angry I am at you? How you have wronged me?»

«I can only imagine,» the man lowered his head. He was ashamed of himself. Lucas was dead, he was in pain, and there was nothing he could do to save him. Nothing he could say to give him remission for what he had said and done. He was powerless to save his brother yet again.

«There is one thing that will make up for what you did,» Lucas whispered.

«Anything,» the brunette hastily said. It was late, he was tired, but he needed his brother to forgive him. He couldn't forgive himself, but if only his little brother could, it would be easier for him to live. He might be able to move on.

«Kill the girls,» Lucas' icy voice rang in the room, knocking the air out of Johns lounges. His mind went blank with horror and dread, and he could only stare at the stone face, as it was smiling at him. The teeth were pointy. It didn't feel like his brother. The face he had grown up with was so known, yet the professor didn't know this person. It was completely different from his life loving brother.

«Lucas,»

«Can't do it, dearie?» the man smiled, and John had to physically keep himself from jumping. It felt like snakes crawled at his feet, spiders ran up his back, and slugs licked his face. It was gross, and he hated the feeling his brother was radiating. How could someone so good and pure become this?

«Kill the girls and I will forgive you. If you can't, then I will personally dispose of them. Maybe even mail you their cold, lifeless bodies,» the man, eyes glaring, faded away like a real ghost. Too real. «You have two weeks,» the voice rang throughout the room.

Falling to his knees, breathing heavily, the man felt he had lost at least ten years of his life in that very moment. He was scared, sad and confused at the same time. His brother was out for revenge, and he would stop at nothing to get it.

John didn't even consider getting rid of his girls. Every time he saw them, their smile, twinkling eyes and heard them laugh with joy, he could only thing of one thing. To protect them. He was their father, no matter what anyone else said, and he had to step up. John never told the girls about his brother. It would only make them determined to help, but this was something he had to do on his own. He could not put them in any more danger than they already were in.

So he worked, day and night. His mind was constantly at max speed to find a solution, and he gnawed on coffee beans for the extra caffeine. Two weeks was his deadline, and he would be damned if he didn't finish in time. The girls were worried about him shutting himself up like he was, but he explained it was for a new experiment, and they displeased dismissed it. Bubbles even told him to get done quickly, so he could return to them. He promised. Just a couple more days left, and it would be over.

John felt like he found the best solution. The only one he could think of as the right one, and it was a long shot to say the least. When the two weeks were up, he was sitting in his basement – couldn't risk the girls waking up and finding him with his brother, it would only place them in more danger – and waiting. The clock on the wall was ticking, the only sound in the room. The middle aged scientist was calm, yet had an uneasy feeling in his chest. He had gone over the mathematics time and time, tested until his face was blue and concluded with it being ready. John didn't feel ready. He would never be ready for what he was about to do.

Lucas didn't say anything as he came in sight, they only stared at each other. He knew John hadn't managed to kill the girls, yet he came. Deep inside, the professor was hoping his brother had come just to see him. To say it was a test, to laugh if off like he normally would, to let bygone be bygone.

«This means I will have to kill them.»

«I understand that,» John said, a sad look on his face. The smile was forced, but at the same time something deep lay behind it. As if he knew a secret his brother didn't. This intrigued the younger sibling.

«What are you up to?» He snarled. The bitterness stung his heart, but there was no way he could back out.

«I was just wondering, if I could get a hug, for old times sake? It's really nice to see you again, and I won't hold this against you. I'm just glad to see my brother again,» John said, tears streaming down his face. He wasn't lying. The brunette was so glad to see his brother, to hear his voice, even if hate was his only emotion. Something moved behind his eyes, a flicker of doubt and sadness, before he nodded in agreement.

The brothers held each other tight, knowing it was for the very last time. After this, they would be enemies. Where had the time gone? John still remembered playing with Lucas in their yard, in the park, making goofy dinner for their parents and spend endless times laughing to their hearts content. The food was never any good, but neither of their parents were angry. They were never angry. They just loved their children.

«I'm sorry,» John whispered, as he dove a syringe inside the back of his brother, emptying the content. It had been hidden in one of his coat pockets. The man let out a heart wrenching screech in anger, pain and fury. Pulling away, he stared from the broken needle on the ground, to his crying brother. With grunts and huffs, he pulled out the broken piece.

«What have you done to me?» he demanded an answer, pulling at the collar. He was seeing red, and smoke rose from his nostril and ears. He was still feeling the pain, winching and shaking. It was burning more and more by the second.

«I made sure you would never hurt my girls,» John whispered. He was so quiet, his heart broken to pieces staring at the pain he was causing his blood. John would have done anything for his brother, but he had an obligation to his girls. He couldn't pick one of them, because he loved both equally. Again, he could only hurt his brother, despite wanting to help to the best of his abilities. It was crushing the old man, knowing he was the cause of the pain.

«I'll kill you, and the girls. I'll kill all of you, every single one of you, until there's nothing left. You're the worst, John. I trust you, again. And again. And again. You're the worst. I'll kill you. I'll kill your girls. I'll kill you. Kill you, kill you, kill, you, kill you, kill all of you!» He screamed, darting for the door. Wiping his tears on his lab coat, the man followed in his younger brothers footsteps. Walking slowly, like a man in his eighties, he stumbled up the stairs to the girls room. The door was open, and he was fearing the worst for a split second. His calculations could be wrong. Did spirits even have real bodies? His brother had cried out in pain, and the content of the syringe had been gone. It was now or never.

Lucas was standing in the middle of the room, eyes glowing red with hatred and anger at the sleeping angels in the bed. The man was pushing toward them, he had every intent to go through with his threats, but he couldn't. An invisible wall was between him and the girls. Imaginative shackles held him back, preventing him from the grotesque outcome he intended. He couldn't get to them. Sighing, John left the room, his brother storming after him.

John Utonium was so tired. So very tired. He wanted to lay down and sleep for weeks to come. Unfortunately, his little brother wasn't done with him. He shook the man when gripping around his arms, his skin was glowing red with rage and fury. The once bright and cheerful, green eyes were huge, demanding. Devilish.

«What have you done to me?» His teeth were threatening close.

«I injected you with a piece of my life force, my soul. My life is a part of you now. You will never be able to harm them as long as my love for them runs through your veins. It is the same as you loving them,» he said. John didn't smile. This didn't feel like a triumph, but more like a loss. Another great loss. To save his daughters, he had to keep hurting his brother. Tell him what to do, whom to be. He was horrible.

«But I can kill you,» Lucas said, as he wrapped his hand around his brothers throat and squeezed.

«Yes.» The answer was quiet, and he didn't resist. He was crying again, making the younger man shake with uncertainty. His hatred was pure; he really wished to kill his older brother, but he couldn't. They were still blood, even beyond the grave. «You're capable of killing me, because I hate myself. For what I did to you, for what I said. All those things I can never take back. You were such a wonderful person, and I blame myself for your death, every single day.»

«Shut up,» he was at the verge of tears. It added fuel to the fire as he became redder and redder, puffier and puffier. John had seen it several times. Lucas was trying his best to hold back the tears, to stay strong.

«Lucas, you would have loved the girls. Buttercup is just like you, exactly like you. And they would have loved you.» A lone tear fell down his cheek. One of bittersweet dreams and memories. Lucas would have been a better father, a better uncle to the girls. He would have been the perfect adult. And John had stolen it away from him. He had argued, shown him away, shun him for what he had chosen to do, and that had been the death of him. It was not the drugs, it was his fault. It was the same as he him injecting the toxic forcefully in him. John had killed his own brother, the thoughts crushed at him, and the grown man cried in a very ugly matter. Tears and snot everywhere.

«Shut up,» Lucas growled through the waterworks of his own. «I'm not Lucas anymore. I am Him,» and he didn't fade out like last time, but went up in aggressive, red smoke, his tear hanging in the air before hitting the carpet. John stared after it, hating himself even more. He had hurt his brother yet again, and he could never make up for it.

Lucas left his brother alone after that. The thoughts of John was shining through, and he was incapable of controlling himself. The odd thing was it didn't bother him if he hurt his sons he had tried to create in his older brothers image, but he only had to see the girls from a distance for the thoughts of love and happiness to bliss up inside of him, but he knew it wasn't his feelings. Not his true ones. Buttercup was so good at sports. Bubbles was such a wonderful artist, and Blossom was at the top of her class. It was a shame to say he was proud, because with every thought John placed in his head, he hated them even more. He wanted the girls dead. With every posinous thought, he grew more vengeful, angry and red. So the devil hid away, plotting his revenge.

Years passed, and he watched as his sons became attached to the blasted powerpuffs too. A devilish plan was set in motion, as he thought of the best way to break them up, while achieving his reaper goal at the same time. His sons weren't going to be weaklings. He would rather die than have people laugh the devil up in his face because his sons were incapable and soft. Hah! He was going to show them soft.

Boomer was probably the one that needed the most whipping around. He spent several weeks in hell with him, his father pushing his pain to a new level every single time, craving more pain, darkness, sorrow. Bleed. Cry. Man up. Become evil. Hate the girls. Hate them. Hate them. Just like he was. Everyone should hate them.

Butch needed some discipline too, because the man did too much of what he himself wanted. The only person he ever listened to was Brick, and his oldest redhead was perfect. Brick never opposed Him; he did what he was told without questions or sarcastic snarls.

One night, he watched his brother sit in his cozy little home, smiling at the girls. What he wouldn't give to be able to strangle them then and there. Set them on fire, impale them. Rip their stupid heads off their shoulders, a face of horror forever tattooed there.

A part of Him was strongly affected by John, because he didn't take actions before the girls were gone. They went out for Christmas shopping, meaning they would be gone for a couple of hours. With a clear head, Him saw an opportunity, and he took it.

«Boys?» he giggled as he suddenly stood in their living room. Brick glanced up from his book, Boomer and Butch paused their games. They visibly gulped at the sight of their father. He rarely visited, but when he did, it was never good. Such adorable children, they're so obedient now, the man snickered to himself.

«I have a task for you,» he urged them closer with a finger. After telling them what to do, making it to more in to a game than a mission, the devil went back to hell to watch the disaster unfold. While the powerpuffs were still gone, he watched as the house blew up. Good boys, he giggled to himself sweetly, watching John draw his last, painful breaths. As he laughed from the bottom of his stomach, something uneasy moved inside of him. Something that was still human, that remembered what sadness was. How to love. Him pushed it further down. So far down, it would never surface, because he wasn't a human anymore. John had made him like this, decided his life for him, and he was going to live it to it's fullest.

The boys had no idea what they had done until a couple of days later, the girls still crying over their fathers death. _One down_ , Him stared at the reflection, _three to go_.

* * *

And there it is, the back story we have all been waiting for. This explains Hims sudden changes and mixed feelings toward the girls, how he can love and hate them at the same time. I hope it made things clearer, and will appreciate it if people point out it if they feel like I've forgotten something.

BlossomxBrick11: thank you for the comment, and don't worry. There will be a lot more chances at lemon scenes. I'm not very good at writing them, so I'm kind of pushing it as far as I can, but I promise there will be.

Gigiright: And thank you for the comment! So sorry for the long wait last time, and hopefully this one was worth waiting for to.

Wolf Goddess of Siberia: Hope this made a little up for the confusing/personality split Him is having. We'll see what the reds will do! They can be quite surprising from time to time. Thank you for the encouraging comment.

Carriedreamer: No worries! I'm always happy to read reviews, no matter when they come around. Glad you're enjoying it, it's mainly why I'm bothering to write. You're very kind in your compliments, and I feel like I barely deserve half for being so late and slow on the updates. Hope this chapter was satisfying!

Blossom782: Thank you for the comment! I can be a really slow updater from time to time, due to other ideas finding their way in to my head and occupying the space there. I do hope you return to the story and not give up. Thank you for reading and the patience.

Demonic dragon blade: Wonderful to hear. So glad you like it, and hope I can keep intriguing and hold the attention in the future. Thank you for taking your time to leave a comment.

Miss Nate: God, the compliments are too kind. Making me blush over here. Thank you so much for making my day and taking your time to leave a comment. It's really heart warming.

Massive thanks to Coconut Cat is real, BlossomxBrick11, kisamitamer12, Carriedreamer, AngePickles, AWESOMEROCKSTAR101 and kngs for following this story, and another enormous thanks to Coconut Cat is real, Carriedreamer, BlossomxBrick11, kisamitamer12 and AWESOMEROCKSTAR101 for adding this to your favorites.

And you silent readers out there. You're all awesome! Leave a review and I'll see you next chapter. Cheers and until then!


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10. A chance at romance**

 _Several weeks later_

Bubbles rested her head at her left shoulder, eyes half open and arms crossed. Leaning against the wall in the bright store, staring as people came and went, she seemed bored. In truth, she was observing every single one of them as if they were terminal ill. Her blue eyes were darkened by a misty shadow, breath low and calm, one finger tapping at the skin on her arm. The nail scratched at the surface, but she didn't mind. In a way, it helped her stay down on earth and not drift off to a different, more dangerous place.

She wondered how easy it was to strangle someone. Would they struggle, how hard would they fight, wriggle? What would it sound like, what would it look like? Would the cry, beg her to stop, kick, cry and scream? Could one scream when being strangled? One had to wonder, would she like it? Would it make her feel good, laugh? How, what, when indeed.

«Bubbles,» a voice called at her, and she turned her murderous stare. A blond man was giving her a stern look with a smile of understanding. His blue eyes were deep as the ocean – would they be as deep or deeper if he was six feet under – and he placed a hand on her shoulder. It had an instant effect, making her blink away the haze.

«Gosh, I did it again, didn't I? How silly -» she tried to explain herself, but he just shook his head. Boomer understood far too well, and he had made it a habit of saving her several times each day. And she was grateful. Ever so grateful for his assistance and help, because the gods knew she wasn't able to keep herself from slipping in to madness.

«It's okey. I'm here. I'll always be here. Even when you don't need me, I'll be here.» He was responsible for the shopping, seeing they had a couple unfortunate events when the blonde female had allowed herself to wander off.

Into the second day of crying, self blaming and completely rubbish stories – he couldn't make anything real out of what she was saying, seeing she blabbered and didn't exactly say what had happened or what she had experienced – they had agreed that because they were the blues, they had the largest affinity for madness.

They were the part of the super group that was sensitive, easily affected and emotional. It only made sense that Him was trying to get to them, because their minds were so easily crushed under his strong mentality.

«Do you ever relapse?» she found herself asking, knowing it was a very insensitive of her. Boomer had told her he knew what she was going through, how he had spent a couple summers and 'emergency base camps', as Him had called it, in hell. The blue ruff never said what the emergency had been, though. At first, she hadn't believed him. What she saw, her nightmares, the killing, laughter, darkness, it was too real for her. How could anyone else have been a victim to it, Boomer, the son of Him at that? Even if he was the devil, he wouldn't do that. The ruffs were his sons. But Boomer had told her things, how lively and scary the experiences could be, how mind breaking it was. How every small fragment of it was tearing her apart, piece by piece.

Said ruff glanced at her, there they were walking down the street. He had handed her a small flask a couple of weeks back, one he had swore would help her. It would make her feel more in control, and soak up the evil. At first, it had seemed like a joke, but the closer she kept it she realized he was right. It was slowly filling with an oily material. It was giving of a sinister vibe.

Bubbles had wanted to empty it a couple of days back, but he had gone off the grid. What would happen if she emptied the evil out in drinkable water? Both humans and animals would be affected, and it would eventually tear them apart. Pants would rot and the soil become infertile. She couldn't do that. So she kept it on her, and the cork tight shut. Like Pandora's box.

The girl didn't show it to her sisters. Telling them that Him had tainted and got to her and she was currently on a homicidal rampage and unstable? Anything could thick her off, make her lash out to the closest human and demand their death, like hades on a giggling Sunday. Couldn't tell the girls that. She didn't have to heart to. They had enough on their mind already, besides, she lived alone. Blossom had moved out – claimed she had enough money to fend for herself as the first pay check had rolled in – and Buttercup was still in a coma.

Surely the green sister wouldn't mind her using the place until she woke up, and she was stable enough to live on her own and get a job without being a danger to everyone around her. Boomer was helping. She was getting better. She really was.

He didn't say anything. The ocean orbs of the ruff studied her, and even if she hated when he did that, she knew he needed to do so before taking the right path. Through their time spent together – it was like old times, when they had been children and played games in secret from their siblings – he had learned to see the warnings signs surfacing, how to deal with the situations and when to encourage her.

Bubbles hated people touching her. After the horrible experience, she shun all human and animal contact, because she wasn't confident enough in herself. The girl that had tricked her out, later reviled itself as one of Him's minions, had gotten close to her, and it had almost ended in her taking another life. She couldn't do that. The melancholy blonde would rather end her own life; which made it that more difficult when she couldn't control her murderous tendencies. A part of her was morphing to Buttercup; so quick to action, and leaving the brain behind. It made her uncomfortable to not be able to behave herself.

After he had embraced her for public display, she had separated herself from him, but kept crying. Hours upon hours had she muttered what was on her mind, how she was struggling and what was wrong, without making any sense. In some way, they both were fine with it. Boomer didn't need to know the horrible details to understand the grotesque in everything. He only had to stare at her, see her hurting, and be there. It was enough for her.

They had talked after that, a lot. The blonde was afraid that her mind would force a meltdown if she took her time to breathe and let reality sink in, but Boomer only listened. He didn't hurry her along, demanded an accurate explanation nor toyed with anything to push away his boredom. The ruff seemed genuinely concerned and interested in her madness of a blabber, and she loved him for it. He hadn't changed.

Within a couple of days, he had managed to drag her out of the house. It had been a stroll around the block, before she had ran back inside with a heavy chest and tears in her eyes, but he didn't bark at her when he caught up. Boomer had been smiling, praising her for her courage and progress. The trust he lay in her was enough to make her keep going, to push herself harder. It was enough to encourage her to take the initiate. To try. To dare.

«I used to,» Boomer's dark, silky voice found its way into her lost mind, drawing her attention to him. Following his gaze, she stared at the light in the distance. Like most government properties, they were mass produced, but one lamp pole was different. It was smaller than the rest, and instead of a bright, white light, it was a dirty yellow covering the street. A large was making its back crocked.

She knew it very well. It had sort off become a landmarking to them, and from it, they could go anywhere they wanted. It was a four way road, and only imagination could prevent them from going on an adventure. Even if it wasn't the pretties out of them, or the one with the brightest light, it brought found memories to her. Boomer had told her funny jokes. They had raced. She hadn't killed anyone there. The place was radiating happiness. She found the corner of her lip twitch upward.

«When I was younger, I used to get these black out. You girls never saw it, because it seemed to be triggered at random times, like a teen boys boner. No controlling that.» Giggling, she glanced at him with a roll of her eyes. Boomer was the softest of the ruffs, but he would say anything to make her smile. And she let him. Even back in the good old days, she would laugh at his jokes and add fuel to his confidence. Much like he was doing now. He was quiet and hesitant before he picked up the subject again.

«I don't remember much, other than waking up feeling sore everywhere and sleeping for days after, but Butch always laughed at how awesome it was, and Brick would approve of it. From what I could understand from bits and pieces, it made me go into a frenzy and attack everything. Knowing my green brother, he loves to fight and takes any chance to jump someone if it meant just that.»

«But you can't remember?»

«No, not much. Just a flow of emotions and power, before everything goes black.» The boy shrugs. The light was red, and the watched a car softly accelerate past them. A man, brown in the hair and dark eyes, sitting in the passenger seat winked at her as they passed. She merely ignored him. Unconsciously, her eyes wandered over to the safe ruff. His foot was tapping the asphalt impatiently.

«I remember everything.»

«We've been through this,» Boomer sighed. They had been. It had been a topic of subject for a couple of weeks, where she would find new and clever ways to ask him another angle of things that eventually lead up to the same.

«There is nothing wrong with you, Bubbles. Him is the one playing with your thoughts. He's making you feel like you're going crazy, and that's why you have to kick back with twice the force. Flip him the finger. Probably not a smart idea, but hey. Even the devil will be flipped one day.» More laugh. No emotion. Truth be told, it felt like she was lying with her fake laughter and responsibility avoidance. If they could just go back and undo what had been done, everything would be fine. She could move on. Or wipe her memories. She could also do that. Whatever was stuck with her now, was just too strong, and she was so tired.

«There is still this feeling, you know? Like it's not just Him inside my head, rearranging my code and randomly composing my personality, but something else. Something that actually is a part of me, but not me. It wants to take control, and it would be so much easier to just let it. Maybe it isn't something from Him and can deal with this? Because I can't, Boomer. I'm so tired.»

«Bubbles,» he lovingly said her name, making her heart skip a beat while snapping for a breath, but when his hand rose to land on her shoulder, she dodged away. The male wasn't hurt by her action, but he had a small hope every time that she had gotten far enough back to let him. Bubbles hadn't. She wasn't sure she ever would. He withdrew his hand, face turned away. Instinctively, her hand reached for her pocket with the small, transparent ball. It was almost filled up, and maybe then. At that point, the evil would be gone, and she might give the touching a chance.

«It's almost over,» was the only thing he said, before they both went silent. When Boomer had insisted on staying with her and helping, the silence had been so awkward. She always felt like she needed to say something, as if talking would break it up. After everything she had been through, she didn't like talking any more. It felt forced, made her just nod and answer with one word, hoping people would just go away. Boomer didn't expect anything off her. He didn't talk much himself, he didn't give her the mean stare, and he wasn't needy. Whenever he was thirsty, he drank. When he needed to eat, he went shopping – it intrigued how he always came back after telling her he wouldn't be gone for long, and what the purpose of his trip was – and gladly used their kitchen to make food. When he needed to go, he went.

The blue boy was big on instant food, and he never ate much, which was one of their breaking points. She loved cooking. The mixing of spices, boiling, roasting, taking the time to perfect the meat. They had eaten each their own at first, until she caught him staring with huge eyes. It had been her first time smiling around him, the sound of his stomach loudly complaining to its master. No, he couldn't possibly intrude and take her food like that. Oh, please. Could she eat a whole chicken of her own? Hell no, now get over here.

Things were smoother after that. They shared interests; movies, hobbies, reading material, animals, food, drinks. Favourite moment in childhood. First kiss. Biggest trip outside town, friends, most embarrassing moment. After a couple of weeks of that, they just watched movies and shows together. They both knew the time was getting there, but neither could wait. And of course, there was the trips. As she progressed, he went further and further away, but stuck close enough in case something bad happened.

The trip to the store had been yet another victory, which he had left her and went out of sight to pick up the supplies. For over ten minutes had she managed to be alone, before her mind had started drifting off to the thoughts of gore and murder, and she had been seconds away from trashing the poor place when he had kept his promise. He anchored her, loosened enough for her to wander further and further, but yanked her back when she was about to trip.

The door went shut behind her, the lock clicking. That treacherous sound always reminded her off how she had let Ace take her green sisters money, and she needed to get it back, one day. When she was strong enough to face him, she would. That much she owed Buttercup for keeping her off the street.

It was getting late in the year, and the weather could be quite harsh, so she always wore a beanie and a coat with high boots. Boomer always insisted on leaving the hat behind, because it ruined his perfect hair, but he did use a jacket. A dark one with sippers. Hard to ever think he had superpowers, because he was as ordinary as they came. Bright smile, warm eyes and ashen hair.

Bubbles looked like the American version of the grudge; with her long, blonde hair and tired eyes, standing in a corner and staring creepily at everyone. The only reason she didn't get thrown out of stores was because the ruff was with her. Maybe they thought she was the crazy sister he was trying to normalize. Probably.

«What had you planned for dinner, anyway?» he threw a bedazling smile of his shouder. He was handsome and he knew it, used it to his advantage, together with the puppy look and innocent – he wasn't, mind you – behavior. It was odd, seeing him like that. Back in high school, she had been the happy one, overcompensating for the loss of the professor, and clowned and laughed at everything. She had grived him, cried several nights in her room and played a role when people were watching. Until it had become her. It only took her a month to realize the professor would want her to be happy, to laugh and live her life like she wanted to. So she had.

Her counterpart had been gloomy, quiet, withdrawn. He didn't speak in class, he slept and ignored the rest, drifting by each day like a ghost of himself. They were still friends, but not as much as when they had been younger. In her last year, she didn't see him. They took different classes and went their different ways.

Now he was her. At least, the way she had been back then when she had found her love for painting and pursued it. A laugh fell flat on her lips and she shook her head. She was Boomer and he was Bubbles. She could live with that. People used to say she was a sunshine in their time of need, and that is what she needed.

«Chicken marsala. It's easy to cook and doesn't take long.» the blonde followed him into the kitchen, the groceries on the table.

«Sounds familiar. Does it have pasta?»

«No,» she chuckled, fishing out some of the ingredients from it, before ordering him to put the rest in place. He had been there long enough to know where things were suppose to be, and the little ordering she did was great for both of them. He didn't mind helping – he couldn't read minds, he appreciated her asking him to do things instead of him guessing what she wanted – and she got to boss around one of the richest people in the world.

«Flour,» she ordered as the salt, pepper and olive oil was placed on the bench, ready for use. Taking out a cutting board and knife, she parted the cloves from the garlic and started slashing them into thin, fine pieces. Some of the white powder became airborne as he crashed it down beside her. Leaning over, like a child, he stared at her work. Must be wonderful being rich, having everything served for you. She wondered if he even knew how to cut vegetables, rinse and prepare food.

«You're too close,» she warned with the knife lifted as she felt his heat on her back. In reality, she wanted to lean in closer and stay like that, but fear was boiling in her soul. She couldn't, would let herself become attached to him. Boomer could take care of himself if she went batshit crazy, but what if she started liking him? He was a ruff. No doubt he would laugh at her and break her heart if he ever found out. Even if he was the blue one.

«My apologies,» he smirked – she could feel him do it – as he moved away and stood by her side, enough space between them to react if she threw something after him. They had been there, done that, but he kept on testing the limits. She hated it, but it was also good for her. He always got closer and closer, and gave her enough time to collect her thriving emotions before giving it another go.

The last things she needed was the mushrooms, fresh parsley and dry marsala wine. In the time they had been there, she had tough him how to make an omelet, cook bacon – miraculously, he had managed to burn them the first time, making the poor side of her scream with hells fury – scramble eggs and bake bread. It wasn't much magic, but to watch his eyes fill with glee from the honest work, she could not deny him. He was still a long way from making dinner, though.

As the man set the table, he bit his underlip before drawing a breath. She could tell he had wanted to tell her something earlier on, but waited with it. Bubbles was not Buttercup, so she couldn't demand him to blur it out, and waited instead. As the food was on her plate, and he had taken a bite, the words started flowing.

«I was thinking, more like wondering, but still thinking, that maybe it would be a great idea – depends on who sees it I guess – but I think it would be a great idea, and maybe you don't, but I still have to ask and wonder and you know how,» he cut himself off, stuffed his face with another piece.

«Great cooking, by the way. Love the chicken.»

«What is it?» She hated herself for asking, but didn't want to be rude and not. There was only one thing they disagreed upon, and he asked her, every day, like clockwise, but at different times. Sometimes in the morning when she wasn't expecting it, sometimes while she was still laughing, even in the middle of an emotional scene of a movie. He had even knocked on her door when she had been showering to ask.

«You have to visit Buttercup, Bubbles. It's been nearly a month.»

«No.» If she did, she would trash about, seeing her energy filled sister in such a still state, mimicking death. The doctors would tell her they needed to pull the plug. Hear heart would give in. She could die right there if she as much as stared at her. And it would make her go after Butch. She would kill him for what he had done. Boomer would never forgive her. It will be another skeleton in the closet.

«Maybe you being there, talking to her, might do the trick to wake her up. There have been many cases where people woke up from a coma after someone close to them spoke to them.»

«I can't, Boomer.» His mouth zipped shut, and he downed his glass of water. It didn't take her many glances to see he had something else on his mind. His shoulders were stiff, his eyes fixated on a piece of vegetable. She knew the look.

«What did you do?»

«I kind of already told, maybe, Blossom that you're going to be there.» The infamous puppy look hit her right in the heart. Too bad for him, she was too angry to be affected.

«Blossom is working,» her eyes furrowed deep and she felt the taste of bitter in her mouth. So when Boomer tried, he could get a hold of her, but every single time she picked up the phone to call, she was sent straight to voice mail. Brick was working her too hard. Maybe she could put all three Jojo brothers in the same closet.

«I called in a favour from Brick,» he scratched the back of his neck. He was really sorry, and she knew he was only thinking of her when he had done it. But damn it. She wanted to do things herself, not just rely on him doing everything for her. He had given her a chance to see her red-headed sister again, and she would be mad at herself later for not taking it.

«Fine,» she sighed.

* * *

Blossom was so tired. After the green sister had been declared as a coma patient, and it was very little they could do, both the Utonium girls had lost it. It had been childish, she knew that in the aftermath, but she had been so angry. So infuriated with rage and anger, they had thrown themselves over the barely scratched Butch. He had been pretty beat up, she knew, but compared to the green puff, his injuries were nothing.

Brick had dragged her out of there, after a nurse had came running and telling them to calm down or leave. She wasn't anywhere close to leaving, so he had thrown her over the shoulder and taken off. Even in the sky, she had kicked and screamed at him – might have been crying too, but she couldn't exactly remember – and he had threatened to drop her. The warning fell flat to her ears, and she had kept trashing about until he had managed to throw her ass into a bed in a hotel.

After the angry sex – she wasn't proud, and it was by far one of her weakest moments in history – and a long, burning shower, she had managed to calm down enough to not run back there and pummel the boy. He probably wasn't there any more, anyway.

Towel wrapped around her small body, she had sat down to talk to Brick. It had been ugly at first, her accusing him of this and that, he trying to fend her off long enough to explain. Being put in second place wasn't something she could handle, and it had ended up with him blurring the truth out to make her shut up and listen to him. Him had flipped the car, normalizing Butch at the same time. It was why his brother had been so beat up.

It would be dumb to blindly believe him, but the red ruff had more. He could prove Him was up to something, he just didn't know what yet. They had to be sneaky about it, too, so she had to come back to the lab. No resignation papers were signed, and he had admitted her to be the best assistant out of every single one he had fired.

It wasn't how he had said it, but it was what it meant. She almost liked him for it, had be not admitted further to changing her contract, making her move closer to the lab. He would pay for the hotel, and she had to pick up the phone every time he called. Whatever he needed. 24/7 contract.

Did he say this was her room? No, he had not, but it was. What gave him the right to take all these decisions for her? She had been so angry at him, and thrown him out. A couple down the hall had given them the judgemental eye, and she understood why. There she was, a towel only, throwing him out, pants the only things covering. She had taken the T-shirt back, thank you. It was hers after all.

Seeing it had been a very hard and difficult day, she felt no shame crawling up in the dirty shirt and snuggling closer to his smell. The following weeks had been hell. He had called at the most inappropriate times, demanded the most ridicule of her, and worked her ass completely off. She barely had time to take a couple bites off her food, before she was needed back at the lab. The sleep wasn't enough for her, and she was at her breaking point.

The phone was ringing madly. It buzzed with every text, called out for her to answer. She didn't, couldn't handle the red ruff at that point. The redhead was so hungry, sleepy, she couldn't concentrate long enough, and feared the lab would blow up became of her falling over and knocking things in the air.

She could handle it better if she hadn't lied to Bubbles. The girl thought she moved out of her own free will and she hated the fact that she never got to answer her calls, had to vaguely answer the texts, and never see her. She couldn't even get enough space to visit her sister in the hospital. The green girl was probably all alone, and she wanted to be there when she woke up.

Brick was pushy. He wanted to be done yesterday, and they had barely found out anything at all in their time of searching. They knew it had something to do with the professor and the powerpuff girls, but nothing more. Not what he was planning, why he was setting them up against each other, or why he had made Butch normal. Last she heart, he was still vulnerable enough to be killed. Good. She hoped he was mugged in a back street, left bleeding to death.

God, these weren't her thoughts. She was just so tired and done with everything, she couldn't help feeling like this. Taking a deep breath, she rolled around in the bed, hoping the soft material could choke the growling of her stomach. What would she do? She needed to take a shower, eat and sleep. He did pay her, so she had enough to go out to have a proper meal. Maybe she could drop by Bubbles. The thought was enough to wake her and she ran across the floor and to the bathroom. Clicking the lock shut, she turned the shower up, threw her clothes off and stepped inside.

Brick was going to be furious at her, and probably come over, so she needed to hurry. He could wait until tomorrow, and she would take the debt. The narcissistic bastard be damned. She needed a time off. They had been at it for nearly a month, damn it.

When they didn't work, they had sex. It had been in her apartment several times, when he would just drop off in the middle of her free hours of sleep, at work when he suddenly felt like it – to be fair, she was always freezing when he pinned her against something – and she had denied him it the last week. Even if she was cold and her skin trembling, she had refused him in spite. Blame it on the project. Her head was hurting – which was bullshit because intercourse was the best way to pump natural adrenaline around the body and get ride of the ache while enjoying yourself – or she was too hungry. Too tired. Didn't feel like it. Not now. Which explained why he was pushing harder at her.

Bloss, fetch the coffee between fifth and seventeen, which was two shops further away from the closest one. No, he didn't want those today, now head off. Bossy, categorize these by name and habit. Both at the same time? Yeah, that's what he had said. Get this to Fuzzy. He's already analysed that seven times today. Just do it. I'm ordering. Fine. It was ridiculous.

They had been fishing for the last week anyway. Brick had no idea where to take the next project, and she was too out of it to shoot blindly like he was. Besides, it wasn't healthy sticking to each other that much. She was sure she saw him twenty hours each day sometimes. Fucking hell.

The pink eyed girl almost jumped out of her skin when something touched her back and the doors to the shower smacked shut. Whirling around faster than a tornado – at least she tried, but was stopped half way – she crashed against the wall and felt strong hands push her in place. The door had been locked, her mind was panicking. Both her doors had been locked. Who could-? A shiver went down her spine as a chilling laughter filled her ear. A strong body pushed up against her.

In her growth, she had heard it several times. It explained why he didn't need to get past the doors. Him could appear and disappear wherever he wanted, leaving no traces behind. The puff started fighting as best she could, kicking after the invisible and pulling at her hands. At one point, she was so scared, she started screaming and hyperventilating. This was not happening.

«Woah, Bloss, chill. It's just a joke,» Brick released her. Pushing up against the wall, she punched at him. Of course, she had a normal humans strength and he still had his super human ones, so he barely stood there and waited for her to calm down. A cruel thought hit her, and she wanted to kick him in the balls, but that's when the waterworks broke.

Angry, she swatted his incoming hand away, brushed the few tears off and glared. How the fuck did he get in there? Sure, he had his own key to the room, but the bathroom was locked. She was sure of it.

«Turn around,» he twirled with his finger. «I promise I won't mimic Him again,» the male assured her when she gave her most disproving look. She wasn't strong enough to throw him out, and maybe giving him what he wanted would give her peace faster. She did.

«The shower is over forty degrees, and you can't feel it, right?» Was it? Blossom quickly glanced at it. Well, shoot. He was right. She had been so in her own thoughts it had slipped her mind how hot she had put it on.

His huge, rough hands found her shoulders. Applying just enough force, he started massaging her shoulders, neck, back, down to her hips. It was nice, not to mention he was warm. Blossom was well aware she had been shivering for quite some time, but she was just too stubborn to give in to every single one of his demands while she was left with no spark left.

Just ten more minutes, she promised herself, but she quickly lost track of time. The touch of his hands were enough to make her bite her lips, groan with pleasure and lean in closer. She was getting woozy and let his hands wander about. He had been there before, and she didn't see any reason not to let him. She needed it after all, or she would just freeze to death.

When she felt his hands round her hips, grip at her butt and his stiffness sneaking in, she broke away from him and turned. The gesture was obviously frustrating him, because he let his eyes narrow and a displeased drag around his lips became visible.

«I need more hours of sleep.»

«Done,» he crossed his hands over his chest, mimicking her.

«And a real food break. As of now, I've barely eaten anything the passing week. If you can't tell, my ribs are showing and it's not attractive.» His eyes wandered to her stomach – might have been lower too, but she wasn't going to become shy at that point, not when he had agreed to this much already – and she made it a point by gesturing with her hands to the points she knew was visible.

«Done,» he let his hands fall from the grip and grab around her waist, eyes still at her body. It was making her red in the face.

«And -»

«Woman, am I going to have to give you the world or something?» From the way he said it, it didn't sound angry, but more frustrating. Oh. Sexually frustrated. A giggle escaped her lips as she watched him lean in closer, tracing soft kisses on her lips. Sure, he could have her, but she wasn't done.

«Not the whole world, but I want to see Bubbles and Buttercup.»

«No.» His words were flat, and she pushed him away. This wasn't arguable.

«Either I get to see my sisters, or you can go blow yourself up.» The grimace on his face wasn't so adorable now. He was angry. A hand rose and he pointed threatening at her.

«I'm already giving you everything I can afford to, so -» like last time, a phone broke their argument, and he held the finger up before storming out of the small space and for his phone.

«Yeah?» he snappily said. To her, it sounded like his usual self, and she let out a laugh as she imagined a frustrated Brick every time he answered the phone. With a stiff on. Damn. No way was she letting this slide.

«Not now,» he grunted, but the other voice talked really fast and he placed it back to his ear as he glanced at her. Oh, oh. That couldn't be good.

«Yeah, okey.» Again, his look glanced up and down her, and Blossom debated if she was going to get out of the shower, dress up and leave him there. Something was up.

«I'll text you the time,» he finished the conversation and threw the phone away, a very pleased look on his face. With a few steps, he was back in there.

«Good news, love. Your wish is about to come true.» The nickname was something he used every time he was about to win something, and she didn't mind it so much as the first time, but something about it was not right.

«I get to see my sisters?»

«Uh-huh,» he leaned in and trapped her against the wall, one hand circling her stomach while the other founds it's way to her hair. He pulled a little at it, enough to earn a gasp from her. Fingers rounded her skin, passed her sides and grabbed a hold of one of her buttocks.

«When?» She didn't expect him to do it, so it came out as a mixture of a moan and exhale. He gave another squeeze.

«Can't we just do this, and then talk afterwards?» he muttered against her neck, licking her earlobe. She laughed sarcastic.

«You, talk after? Please.» Brick sighed and pulled away, wet hair sticking to his body. It was too long, she thought. He should have cut it and kept it in a low ponytail.

«Seven, does that work?»

«In the morning?»

«No, in the afternoon, you duck.» That one was new. Glancing at his stiffness, she could tell it was getting painful to hold back, but she had to. This was the only thing she would demand of him for some time, and it might be the only chance she had.

«Too late. How about three?» He bit his lip, and Blossom used her girly charm. It would be considering cheating, but everything was fair in war. She crossed her arms under her chest and pushed them up. It worked she concluded as his eyes landed there, and he watched with hunger.

«Alright. Can we do this now, love?» He looked tired. Even if he was superhuman, his own pushing would have to get to him too at one point. Blossom took a step closer and let her hands feel up his chest. Fine, she would have to admit he ruined sex for her forever after this was over. No guy was as well built as the rowdyruffs – they were actually created for them so it made sense – and she had never been able to feel as free with anyone as she was with him.

«Yeah,» she whispered.

«Finally,» Brick threw himself over her, grabbing her tighs and pushing her up against the wall of the shower. She quickly wrapped herself around his hips, feeling himself adjust. One thrust against her, and she was already feeling herself ready. So much for that foreplay. A finger found its way to the opening, and her head was spinning at the sensation. A week without him? What the fuck had she been thinking? His laughter sent tingles down her spine.

«Naughty, bad puff,» his hot breath tickled her cheek.

«Dirty, sexy ruff,» she answered him and let her nails dug into the skin on his back. Pressing the tip against the opening, he grabs a hold of her hips, and dives in. She could feel herself expand around him. God, it was making her so hot she moaned loudly.

In their weeks of sex, they had explored how to make the other go crazy. Brick was very found of sounds. He loved her showing how she felt and use her voice, talk dirty to him. She wasn't very used to it, but the moaning was something she had always held back, and it felt great letting it out.

Lifting her up, she felt him slide in and out, faster and harder. Sliding her eyes open, she stared at his crimson eyes, watched his muscles tighten up, felt his rough hands grab hard on her skin. God, he was making it feel so good.

She grabbed at his hair, digging her nails into his scalp, leaning in closer, letting her chest brush against his. To them, this was also a competition. They had to be best, and as their eyes were locked, she held on to his shoulder and helped push up and down.

The length was almost tearing her apart, but it was making her feel so good at the same time. It hit up against her, pushed at her most sensitive spot, and she cried out as a wave of pleasure rode her whole body.

He leaned in closer, and their foreheads connected. In her haze, heat and muscle ache, she saw him close his eyes and pound her one last, hard time. It sent her over the edge, making her throw her head back and scream his name. She didn't intend to, it just happened.

His thumbs rubbed at her hips, his mouth planted soft kisses on her neck and collarbone. Gently, he pulled out and held her close to his chest. Her feet were shaking horribly, and she had problems standing, but he supported her. Even if her hands were numb, they clung to his neck.

When she was able to stand on her own, she felt him release her. Blossom was so sure he was going to leave at that point, but he didn't. Instead, he washed her hair. His hands felt like magic as they rubbed her scalp and washed it out. They didn't say anything. Blossom realized what she had said in the end, and she was too embarrassed to meet his gaze. He would surely make fun, even if he had liked it.

Brick left the shower first, roamed a round to find a towel, wrapped himself up before he twirled one around her. Swooping her up in his arms, he carried her over to the bed and laid down, opening his phone.

«Brick,» it was the first thing any of them had said, and he silenced her quickly with a finger. Honestly, she didn't know what was going on with him. He could be so sweet at one point, and then turn around as if nothing had ever happened. Sweet and sweet. This was probably as sweet as he got. The usual Brick would throw her on the bed and leave while laughing.

«Yeah, it's me.» The boy sure said that a lot, but she expected as much. He was famous, even if she didn't want him to be. He then turned toward her, those crimson eyes making her blush. Gee, she acted like a fourteen year old.

«What do you want to eat?» he asked, leaning on his arm, staring down at her. Oh, how she was tempted to say _you_. Brick was right about one thing. She was a naughty, bad Puff.

* * *

Butch had been staring at the ceiling for quite some time. The drugs in his system was about to wear off, but he couldn't find the will to get up and shoot himself another round of fun. Don't get him wrong. After Him had fucked him over and taken away his immortality and invariability, the drugs had five times the normal effect, and he didn't have to snort everything any more. He could just pop a needle in the arm and incoming fun time.

The problem was that he had been high constantly for a month now, and even though it was mind blowing how many things he had tried and how much fun he had, the only thing left were nightmares. Whenever he would take something that made him hallucinate, he would see her charming smile before it melted off and splatted on the floor in a pool of blood.

All the girls' voices sounded the same, and they kept calling out for him. It happened more and more, and it just became worse. Whatever he took, whomever he spent time with, he went back to the moment Buttercup had been awake and kind to him. Sure, she had called him a pain in the ass and all that, but she had called him an ok guy. His counterpart approved of him.

And then she had ended up in that coma. Taken the poor man's way out. Fuck. How was he suppose to make her hate him again if she refused to wake up? The doctors said she could wake up at any moment, but it could also last for the rest of her life. It was up to her. There was really nothing he could do but wait for her. Fuck!

When she did wake up, he was going to shout her ears full. Leaving him like that, almost worrying about her, daring to take this long to wake up. Acting like a normal girl, trying to be nice to him. Shit, he hated it. Then they were going to take Him down.

«Boss,» Ace called from the other side of the room. He had a hand over the phone, a nervous drag around his mouth, a palm resting on the door in case he needed to get out of there before something hit his head. The green ruff had been quite the irritated, menstruating bitch, and anyone who popped up at the wrong moment would feel his wrath.

«What?» he called out. It was louder than he had expected and high pitched. When was the last time he had talked? He couldn't remember, but the sound had him cringe.

«I wasn't sure how to tell you, but seeing it's happened I don't think I can keep it to myself any more-»

«Hurry the fuck up. Your voice is enough to make me vomit.»

«Right.» He tilts his glasses to stare him straight in the eyes. «I put a post at the hospital, and it was Arturos turn. He just called in.»

«What post?» the green ruff grunts as he hauls himself up on his elbows and flip around, the world spinning awfully much for half a twirl. Fuck this. He was going to be sick.

«I thought it would be best to have him at a stake out to make sure everything was fine, in case Him popped up or the vitals dropped and we needed to be there, or if she woke-» Butch vomited on the floor, effectively making the pale man shut up and wrench his nose in disgust.

«Clean that up,» he ordered as he rolled out of bed and fell on the floor with a painful grunt. The brunette needed to get to the bathroom before the rest of the surprise exploded all over the room. Staggering he tried his best to rise from his doggy position – failing miserably – and landed on his right side, mouth open and drool moistening the floor. It was cold. Where was his carpet? He needed it. The soft one with tangling threads that tickled his balls. The ruff loved that feeling.

«Butch, Buttercup woke up.»

«I heard ya the first time,» he grunted from the floor. Suddenly, the need to get up and see her wasn't there. The butterflies in his stomach were too much for him to handle, and maybe some of that extra MDMA had kicked in. Did he want that? Sure, why not. It would make him more pleasant to be around when he got his ass off the floor and gave her a vicit. If he gave her one. Butch didn't give bitches anything. They gave him shit, but bro. It would be nice to see her again. Maybe even hug her. She would kill him.

Like the fool he was, Butch started giggling on the floor from the mental picture it was giving him. She would be so mad she would jump out of her skin and strangle him with it. Not only would it be priceless to see, but totally worth it.

«Uh, boss?»  
«To the Batuch mobile,» he giggled with a hand risen over his head. A majestic pun made out of his new, beautiful car and its similarities with the bat mobile. It was perfection at worst. «But first, you need to help me up. Not only did the bitches give in on me, but my legs seem to be malfunctioning as well.»

«Of course,» he rushed over and supported his weight with a hand under his shoulder and the other had a tight grip of his forehead. The man counted to three, and pulled him up. His muscles rushed to life, making the big man almost have a very unpleasant meeting with the floor.

«I would've killed you had you dropped me,» Butch said while smiling wide.

«I'm well aware,» Ace was clearly sweating, throat swallowing, the dryness of his tongue tries to wetten the nervous lips. It was enough to make the ruff give him a good pat on the back. In the old days, it would have broken a couple of the vertebrae, but he wasn't quite so strong any more, and the only reaction it provoked was an _omf_.

«You're a good man, Ace,» Butch surprised himself and the older one by saying. It wasn't intended, he didn't mean to, something else was about to come out, but that's what he ended up with. Drugs talking. Drugs walking. He was a mess.

«Uh, thanks?» A brow reached his eye while the other the hair lining. Even if he was wearing sunglasses, the question mark was quite clear.

«It's the MDMA talking,» Butch explained, barely sober enough to catch on to it.

«Ah,» Ace pouted and gave him a toothy grin. «Cmere, boss,» he pulled him along, and the man let him. On their way to the showers, the man explained they couldn't share, that would be weird, while Butch told of his victories and how the green gang leader was the first to make him smile in weeks. At least, that's what he thought. Time wasn't quite relevant, and he didn't even know what day it was. A Friday? Oi, party time! Wait, Buttercup. He needed to see her, to clear things up. Of course the man knew, that's why he had been so nice to put up a watcher.

As he was washing himself, the mouth wouldn't stop talking. He either laughed, worded or made unnecessary sounds to fill the void. Energy wasn't flooding over and taking a restless hold of him, but he was rather open and calm about it. Yes, yes. It was the drugs talking, but eh. Butch could be like this when he wanted to.

In the car – Ace had voluntaries to take him after Butch had ordered him to – the grown man of twenty two was singing from the top of his lounges to all the songs on the radio, winking at bypassing girls; he didn't think they couldn't see him behind the black windows; and managed to remain calm at the same time. The witnessing eye would be quite impressed with the odd mix.

Some of the drug must have wore off by the time they hit the entrance of the hospital, because the man wasn't so sure of himself any more as he watched Ace greet Arturo, the youngster running up to them with waving hands. By the time they were deep in talk, Butch felt his phalanges ache and the skin around them sweat. It wasn't just his fingers, but toes too. Rubbing them off on his shirt – instantly regretting making it smell horrible man body fluid – he moved around and waited for Ace to show the way. How odd wasn't that? The boss was waiting for his second in command take the shots.

«The rest of the girls are here, same as the Jojo brothers. I don't think they knew she was going to wake, because they came half an hour before she became concious, as far as I heard,» the raven haired boy reported to his commanders. His brother's were here? What was that all about?

«Boss,» Ace called him back to earth, the man giving him a concerned look. To most eyes, it didn't seem like anything had changed in the face of the mature man, but the Jojo knew him better than that. They had grown up together, pulling each other in to trouble and out of trouble at the most ridiculous times, and he knew him better than he knew himself at times. The pale man also knew the brunette couldn't stand sympathy. Flipping his nose with his thumb, he plastered a smirk on his lips and nodded for them to push forward.

«To arms, my minions,» he called, pointing at the hospital as if it was the endgame boss and they were close to victory. Lil' Arturo gave Ace a look of puzzlement, but he just waved him off. It could wait.

«To arms we go,» Ace saluted him, and Butch lead the way. The chin was risen high, his arms swaying, fists clenched, confident smile and a positive attitude. As the man lead them the way, barely daring to look at him – he was known and thus never denied in fear of a loss of work – the good feeling became less and less appealing, before he stopped at the end of her door with a cold stomach. It didn't feel good any more.

The room around him was white, as if sticking around wasn't enough to drive anyone crazy, and the doors were the same, the same distance between them, the same worn colour and clean like a morgue. He had wanted to see her for the last passing month – even came her in the middle of the night to sneak a peak at her sleeping, peaceful form. It was nice when she didn't yell at him – hell, she was both pretty and sexy as fuck, but he wasn't going to say that to her, no – and he had imagined the moment of seeing her green eyes so full of life again.

He had imagined her screaming and jumping him, demanding his death for what he had done, and he would laugh it off as if it was the worlds most normal thing. In his most delusional dreams, Butch had seen her smile at him and wave a hand, glad she wasn't dead and ready to start over with him. After all, she did call him an okey guy and said he cleaned up well. That had to count for something, right?

«Boss,» Arturo started, but the other cut him off.

«Quiet, let him be. We'll be over here and wait for your return, mate. Call if you need anything. We can even run to the store and get you guys something if you want. Heard the hospital food isn't that great.»

«No. We're... We're fine,» he grunted, eyes fixated at the door. Could he? Fuck him. He was being a pussy over nothing. This was Buttercup, Butter-fucking-cup Utionum. Hell, they had been somewhat friends at one point and he tried to kill her all the time. No need to be so nervous. Shh, he wasn't nervous. Fuck. Take the damn handle and push. No, down with it first then push, or he would just crash into the door. Wouldn't that be embarrassing?

His hand finally found it's way to the cold – oddly how it could be so cold yet the air be a degree of molten – metal of the handle, and he swallowed. This was not happening. His brain was fried due to the drugs. It was the only logical reason. Fuck.

The door swung open, and he found himself grimace with dismay. Shit, he wasn't ready! Why did his body just react out of it's way like that and – wait. He hadn't been the one to move the door. On the other end were two blue eyes staring at him. They were as bright as a summers sky, blond hair cascading and framing the lovely face. Her smile quickly turned sour and demonic, before she threw herself over him. Luckily, the blond ruff wasn't far behind and quickly saved his sorry ass from a good beating.

«This is all your fault! I should have killed you when I had the chance,» she roared at him, trying to push a laughing Boomer away. Butch found himself annoyed at his younger brother for making fun of him. The first thing he was going to do when he got his powers back was give him a lesson in why older siblings were feared.

«Calm down, Bubbles. It's not his fault it's like this, besides, it's not that bad. The doctors said-»

«I heard what they said. I'm mad, not deaf,» she barked at him, taking the quickest one eighty he had seen in his life, and the blond released her to rise his hands up to his hands in defeat. Boomer had never been one to indulge in fights like him and Brick, and merely did it out of necessity.

«Hey, I'm not the enemy.» About to say something else, she drew a breath, held it, and stormed off, after sending him a look of promise. Death and misery. Great. His brother merely nodded at him before rushing after his counterpart.

The door was wide agape, and two pair of dark eyes stared at him. Brick wasn't amused; he looked pissed in fact, and Blossom was quick to ignore his presence. Great. Just great. On the bright side, now that the door was open, he didn't have any problems entering the illuminated room. The lamp was sitting on the night stand, and he couldn't see any difference between this and the first room she had been embedded in. All the rooms were the same. Might as well call up the psychiatry and enrol there instead. Holy F.

«Butch,» Brick greeted.

«Brick. Pinky.» He tried to nod at her, but she didn't say anything, just stared at the person in bed. He delayed looking the way as best he could, but when his feet came to a halt in front of her bed, he couldn't help it any more and glanced up at her.

Out of every scenario his fucked up brain had ran by him, this was not one of them. She was sitting there, as if nothing had happened, eyes bright and staring at him. Her brows were puzzled and her head a little twisted to the side, as if she tried to filtrate a thought out of her head to catch it.

«This is all your fault,» Blossom said, finally acknowledging him. How was her being awake his fault? He would gladly take the honour for her being up and running, but why was everyone making it sound like such a bad thing?

«That she's awake?» he defended himself. The redhead snorted instead of answering, turning her attention to her sister. The brunette glanced between them, wetting her lips with her tongue, parted her lips to say something, but stopped herself instead.

«You have no idea, do you?» she finally finished, glaring at him. It was such a fuelled action, he almost took a step back. But just almost. Nothing said hells fury like a pissed off redhead.

«Uhm,» she finally said, hesitant. Since when was Buttercup holding back? «I'm so sorry,» she what? He didn't believe his ears at first. Had he not seen it, he wouldn't have believed it. Even when they had been younger and she had done whatever she liked to anyone, she never apologized. «But who are you?»

The silence was followed by him bursting out laughing. That was by far one of the best jokes she had ever taken. Fucking with his head, Buttercup style. He liked it.

«Good one, Butters. Almost had me there.»

«Butch,» Brick drew his attention. «She's not joking. The puff doesn't remember squat. Not bossy, not blonde, our idiot brother or me.»

«What?» The smile melted off his face as he glanced back at the girl in bed. She was blushing, staring at the blanket wrapped around herself, looking guilty.

«I'm so sorry,» she muttered.

«WHAT?»

* * *

 _And there it is, the long awaited update! Thank you for the read and leave me a comment on your thoughts. Oh, yeah. **If anyone has an English spelling program for OpenOffice, please PM me or leave a comment about it. I got a new computer and Office only had my native language. I'm currently using New Zealand English^^''**_

 _Gigiright: Thank you for the review! So glad to hear the chapter fell to your taste and it keeps being interesting._

 _Ash141: I do love questions. Feels like I did something right. Seeing they aren't made with the DNA of the brothers, I personally wouldn't deem them as related, but I suppose they could be seen as that in one way? Thank you for the review and question!_

 _Demonic dragon blade: Shit sure is hitting the fan! Here is another enjoyable – hopefully – chapter!_

 _BlossomxBrick11: Here's a little bit of lemon! It's my fist time writing one, so pinpoint whichever part was bad and good, so I can improve them to further scenarios. Glad it's to your liking!_

 _AWESOMEROCKSTAR101: Thank you for the compliment! Things seem to complicate quite some, and who knows? With this outcome, I'm sure some green action is just around the corner._

 _Blossom782: Woah, so nice of you to say, and I'll keep coming back to this story, even if it takes me some time to do so. I know where I want it to go and what the endgame is!_

 _Guest: Wonderful to hear! Hope you return for more fun and drama! Thank you for the review!_

 _Thanks to The Darkneon Flash, Hinata28h and Flutejrp for following this story, and another huge thanks to Goddess Cure Mystic, Flutejrp and Ronniefanficfan 18 for adding this to your favourites!_

 _And you silent readers out there! You're all awesome! Remember to leave a comment and I'll see you next t_ ime.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11. Something in the air**

Buttercup was supposedly her name. When one didn't have a memory, it was hard to tell if people were lying, when not given a base line to what was right. She could tell the difference between what was right and wrong, but not when it came to human credibility. The redhead with these odd, pink eyes that seemed to intelligent for normal and the smooth skin claimed to be her sister, but from what she could tell, they looked nothing alike. If anything, she was a relative of the redheaded man standing at the back of the room. His crimson eyes bore their way into her soul, making her shiver and avert her eyes in uncertainty. It felt like he as well could see every small detail and even knew what she was thinking before she did it.

The blonde girl had jumped her with a glee she couldn't fathom where came from. The small frame, height barely reaching the shoulder of the other woman, and her sun kissed hair was dangling straight with her bouncing form. It surely seemed like they were acquaintances, but she couldn't place her. The woman could be another walker down the street, quickly blending in and lost in her subconscious hadn't she introduced herself as her other sibling. Even she had a male version of herself. Were they sure she was their sibling, and they weren't something else? Friends from school or something like that? Not to be offensive, but they looked nothing alike.

Her confused face must have been what gave her away, because the sharp carrot top railed her in on it and started asking questions. How many fingers did she hold up? Stare at the finger and follow it with your pupils, please. What is your name? How old are you? What is the last thing you remember? Does your body feel odd in any way? Any cold spots? Anything hurting? So many questions, and she did her best to answer them without seeming rude and interrupting. Whatever was wrong – she later found out it was the amnesia – it seemed to affect the smaller one the most. The girl stormed off with an apology. That seemed to be one thing they had in common; they both said sorry a lot.

Then, to her biggest surprise, a male came waddling in the door. He was insecure, his shoulders broad, but hanging low, his eyes glued to the floor. By the way he dragged his feet, she would say he had a 'sorry' aura about himself. The raven hair, the green eyes. No doubt, this had to be her brother. They were pulling her leg.

«Butch,» the man with the long, flaming hair said. His voice was hostile, as if he wanted to rip him a new one.

«Brick. Pinky.» A playful smile was aimed at her supposedly sister, but she ignored him with a lift of her chin and staring hard at the brunette in bed. She didn't like the stare, and her grip around the blanked tightened. What had she done that made all of these people so angry and tense? What kind of person was she?

Instead of focusing on the scary, levelheaded woman, she focused on the new man. He finally lifted his gaze and meet hers, and she felt a slight thud in her chest. It wasn't much, it wasn't hard, but it had spiked the beat and left her a little short out of breath. So not a brother then, or she was a sinner aimed for hell.

«This is all your fault,» Blossom growled at him, the name sounded odd to her, but she watched as his innocent posture turned hostile and strong at her. The man leaning against the wall rose an eyebrow and slid off it, ready to jump in if it went south.

«That she's awake?» he defended himself. Instead of explaining the situation – which she would gladly do herself simply because she couldn't blame it on anything other than memory loss – the woman snarled and cut him off. As if simply seeing him grossed her out. Her tongue wetted her lips, she opened and closed her mouth like a fish. She wanted to say anything, something, but she couldn't. What was she suppose to say? These people were foreigners to her.

«You have no idea, do you?» Blossom broke the silence and gave him one last hard stare. The hurt, anger, wrath was all there, enough to make the man have the decency to look shamed, confused. He glanced at her, and she felt like there was no other time than the present at such, and exploited the given chance.

«Uhm, I'm so sorry, but who are you?» she murmured hesitant, pulling the covers closer. It felt odd seeking comfort from texture, but she didn't see any other means. The room was alien to her – admitted, it was a hospital – and she had no idea who these people were. They popped up up right, left, and were gone before she cold shout them a 'hold on' and get an explanation. This is the truth, accept it. What? No. She couldn't.

The silence lasted a pinch too long, and she was just about to pull back the statement when the raven haired man burst out laughing. Oh, god. Did she talk funny? Maybe she was acting odd. What did she say? Why was he laughing? That was so mean!

«Good one, Butters. Almost had me there,» the man flashed her a heart throbbing smile while wiping a tear from his eye.

«Butch,» Brick, the rough voice she had not heard enough of, drew his attention. It was dark like chocolate and had her dreamy. «She's not joking. The puff doesn't remember squat. Not bossy, not blonde, our idiot brother or me.»

«What?» The outburst had her blush. Were they close? Did they know each other? God, the loss of memory was killing her. Who was this guy? Who were they all?

«I'm so sorry,» was the only thing she could say. There wasn't much else to spit out, besides all the questions. Who was she? What did she like, how did they know her? Staring at her own hands, she felt the roughness of the skin. From what she could tell, they were hard working. What type of job had she been doing?

«WHAT?»The over-reacting yell was loud enough to shake the walls, and she winched.

«Calm down,» the redheaded male pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes with wrinkled eyebrows, as if he was physically holding himself back from punching the huge male. Funnily enough, the female counterpart was massaging her temples with a displeased drag around her mouth.

«The doctors said it could very well come back naturally and quick, and sometimes never,» Blossom broke the silence, and the brunette wanted to thank her. The dark, handsome man was staring at her with such intense eyes, she wanted to crawl under the blanked and wait for those memories to return. With the voice, he broke his gaze off her, and she thought she was going to melt in that moment. Who was he? What were they to each other?

«Wait, back up. Never? She'll be like this forever?»

«Might be,» a sigh left her pulp lips as she let her soft, pink orbs rest on her sister. There was such affection from such a stern and head strong person, she couldn't help but believe her words. This was her sister. Even subconsciously, she knew that was the truth. «And that's why this is all your fault. What were you thinking, placing her in such a dangerous, attractive position for Him?»

«Bloss,» Brick warned, but he did nothing that indicated he would step between them. Just stood there with his hands folded over his chest, glaring at everyone while an obvious migraine was working its way up.

«I was hit too, you know.»

«Yeah, but she could have di-» The woman had risen from her seat, stormed at him with wild eyes and bawled fists, so ready to give him a reason for an ice pack, but she stopped herself and straightened her back instead. Taking a deep breath – frustration and anger washing off her – she opened her palms and brushed him off.

«The memories can also be triggered with familiar environments or certain known actions. Muscle memory is never forgotten when these things happen, so if she is exposed to places with strong emotional attachments or objects, it might work.»

«I have no idea what that means,» Butch stupidly said, giving her a risen eyebrow.

«Take her to places she likes and show her things she knows, and the memories might come back.» The strong voice of his older brother saved the dumbass.

«Oh, why didn't you just say that right away, Pinky?» Turning to her, or rather looking down at the firecracker, he flashed her a toothy grin that should not have stirred these stomach flipping feelings inside the brunette. What would she do if he did that to her? Probably scream and run away with a lit face.

«Listen, you moron. I don't have the time to do it, and Bubbles just stormed off so I'm going to – I can't believe I'm saying this – put my faith in that you will get the job done.» From listening, the man cracked another handsome smile and placed his hands on his sides with an approving nod.

«Leaving her in my care, are we?»

«Just -» she held her hands hovering in the air, the fingers twitching in lust to strangle him, but her self control was stronger. «Just take her to these places to see if anything happens, if not, then straight back home. No detours, no monkey business, no illegal stuff. I will bail her out and make sure you never see the light of day ever again, mark my words.» A list was handed to him – when had she had the time to make it? Buttercup couldn't even remember seeing her with that or something to write with – and he took a quick glance over it.

«These places only, then back home,» was her last warning at the tip of an index before she stormed past him.

«I'll come by tomorrow, Buttercup. Maybe later tonight, but no promises. If anything happens, call me. I think you saved me under Bloss. Anything, right?» she turned to Brick and gave him a very stern look, which he just clicked his tongue and turned his head away from.

«Okey,» the confused brunette nodded while glancing between them. She couldn't tell which one was the boss. They were each so stubborn and bullheaded.

«These places only, Butch,» she glared, before hasty walking out with a hearty goodbye to her. The stunned girl in bed could do nothing but wave after her.

«Braindead,» Brick acknowledged his brother while passing.

«Brickhead.» The change of words weren't hostile, if anything, they seemed to bask a faint smile on their lips before he was gone. As if it were their way of saying ' _this is in your hands, don't fuck it up, bro'_. The small pause couldn't last long enough as the raven haired man turned her way and folded his arms. It made him look twice as big. What was the deal with these ridiculously fit guys? The blond had been tall and slender, the redhead a tad more muscular, but this man was basically Arnold Schwarzenegger. Don't ask how she knew that, but she did.

The smug drag on his face and those half open lids had her wanting to squeal like a fan girl and giggle at him, but she couldn't. Her core was holding her back, begging her to act normal. What was normal? He was handsome, funny, obviously they knew each other, and she was pretty sure it wasn't her brother. Couldn't be. So, fair game, right?

«Let's go,» he nudged with his head. When she hesitated, he took a step closer, almost killing her in the process. Wasn't like she couldn't see him in high definition already, didn't need it up close and in 3D. Not to talk about personal, her body reminded her with a tingling feeling deep in the pit of her stomach. Whatever they were to each other, it was something intense.

Scrambling clumsily about, because she frankly couldn't stand the thought of his well tanned skin, those broad shoulders and the intense stare up in her face and behaving at the same time, the brunette found herself falling out of the comfortable bed and landing face first on the hard floor. Groaning with pain, both from the throbbing knees she had earned and rubbing the sore spot on her left palm, her eyes stared upwards as he stood there on the other side, waiting for her with an amused smirk. The worst part about it was how he didn't even try to hide his pleasure with her discomfort.

It only added fuel to the fire, made her face blaze up with a darker shade of red as she averted her gaze and did her best to rise from her vulnerable position.

«Alright,» he broke the silence as his dark forest eyes scanned the paper given to him. The completely turn around from giving her too much attention to not even acknowledging her was fascinating had it not been for her plain t-shirt and hospital pants. They were an out washed, light blue color and slumped around her body with the least care in the world. The brunette had barely taken a look at her face – oddly how aged she was compared to how foreign her caged flesh felt – but she looked like shit. Dark bags under her eyes added to the hostile, lime color and the barely visible wrinkles dragging the corners of her mouth down. It told her she frowned and snarled more than laughed and smiled. What kind of person was she?

Buttercup was her name. Who named their daughter after such a boring flower, seen as a weed by the eyes of experts? Mostly unwanted where it went, spreading like a disease in the purest of meadows, and pulled up by it's neck, root dangling and holding on for dear life. Did it mean she wasn't special, just another face in the endless sea of crowds? She was not given a great start, and would rather have a mundane name. Like Mary, or Anna.

«Boring, can't do. Nu-uh. What's your sister thinking these places will do to you – the freaking library? The school? - other than bore you to death? It's not like any of us enjoyed them, if even went at all,» Butch finally turned his attention to the flustered girl with a risen eyebrow, as if wanting confirmation from her to take the lead and go against the given order. She wasn't capable of giving him what he wanted.

«Any of us?» she asked him instead, wanting to switch the focus away from what she was suppose to be, and rather wanting to learn about herself and the people around her. Maybe a story would jug her memory? Something known, she could relate to.

«Yeah, you and me, Butters,» the raven haired pointed with a thumb between them as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. When she didn't give him anything past her confused look, he cocked his head and twisted his grin.

«Right. Memory loss. Keep forgetting. You're one though bitch, so it's too weird to get used to.» The harsh language had her wrinkle her nose and dodge his gaze. Bitch? Didn't sound like she was a very nice person.

«Where to begin,» he muttered to himself, the paper already bawled inside his fist and resting fingers at his chin to support the thinking phrase. «We're superhumans. The flying, super strength, laser out of our eyes, all that jazz.»

That had to be the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard, and she was quite wounded by his mocking of her dysfunction. He thought he was being funny and could prey on her like the predator he was. A knotting feeling behind her rib cage had her swallow hard.

«Superhumans? Right. Could you leave, please?»

«What the fuck. You never say please. No, Butters, we really are. Was even made in a lab, or I was made in a toilet with my brothers, but that's beyond the point.»

«Don't tell me what I do and don't, and don't call me that. It sounds alien. I don't like it. I don't know you. And now you're pulling my leg. Picking on the mind blinded girl. Really mature.» He was taken aback for a split second, before he collected himself.

«Never expected to hear something like that from you. Memory loss. Quite confusing, and I'm not pulling your leg. We really are superhumans. You and your sisters used to save the day when you were younger.»

«Then prove it. Show me this super strength of yours, or float, right here and now,» she was quite surprised at her own feisty reaction to his stupid prank, but something flared inside her stomach, making her brave enough to go up against him. Hell, she didn't know him and maybe he wasn't as though as he was trying to be. Could be a mask.

Butch opened his mouth a spit second, his body ready to prove something, but he licked his lower lip before tilting his head the other way. The inhale was quick, the exhale was long and lasting. A wrinkle formed on his forehead. One of frustration and defeat.

«I can't anymore.»

«Hah! So it's all lies. Get out. I'll get the redhead to help me instead.»

«Anymore! My powers were stolen from me in the crash -» and he bit his own tongue, staring down at her with a change of eyes. It was so sudden she snapped for her breath, but held her posture. It didn't matter how handsome he was or what they were to each other; she didn't like him. Something was off; something he wasn't telling her, and it was driving her crazy and beyond. There had been a terrible accident, and she could have died, she got that much, plus the coma for a month, and the memory loss, but why were they all so secretive about it? How did the accident happen? Who was this him they talked about? A boyfriend, nemesis?

«Wait, you were there when I had the accident?» she asked. If she was going to he honest with herself, she actually knew that much from the way they had all treated him and the hostility from her redheaded sister upon seeing him, adding the bits and pieces of conversations she could pick up.

«Yeah,» he crumbled the paper some more. «I was sitting in the backseat, you were in the front. That's why your wounds are more severe than mine. Got myself some nasty scars, thought. Glass can cut quite deep,» he talked while flashing her the outer side of his forearm, displaying a couple of pink, soft skin in patterns across the skin. A terrible thought hit her.

«Who was driving? Did he -» Her voice was cut off by the terrible imagination her brain was giving her. Bloody, meaty, death. Shaking from left to right, she pushed the images back.

«Him was driving and he's fine. Thought it's his fault the car flipped,» Butch shrugged.

«How can it be his fault if it was an accident?» Buttercup furrowed her brows.

«Long story. I'll tell you when your memories are back. Now, about the places, we can't go where Pinky wants us to go. It's a dead end already. I have a couple other places in mind,» the mischievous smile on his face sent shivers down her spine. Not the kind that made one freeze up and wanting to turn back, but the kind that formed a deep warmth in the abdomen and encouraged the daring.

«But Blossom said,» she went against her instincts. Butch laughed and cut her off.

«Listen, Butterfly. We're the green ones. We do whatever we want, and we don't listen to the leaders. They know that, we know that, so le'go!»

«But she said,» the protest came weaker this time, a part of her mind was agreeing with him. How could she agree without knowing herself? This was so confusing.

«Or you know. You can stick around the hospital, do absolutely nothing and wait for the memories to maybe return. Doesn't sound too promising, if you ask me. The better choice would be to chase them and get back to the normal day.»

«But I don't know what's normal. I don't know myself or anyone.»

«Don't worry about that,» he flashed her his billion dollar smirk as he took a step closer. «We're pretty close, I know the normal you.»

* * *

Boomer was trying. The blonde was giving it his best, his all, everything; but sometimes giving away everything just wasn't enough. That was the blasted keyword. _Enough_. A satisfying amount, making one back down and sigh in unspoken relief and feel _content_ with the given amount. As things were now, he wasn't capable of doing that.

Ocean blue eyes followed the figure as it more than paced back and forth. Calling it running would be over exaggerating, but the aggressive movements were far too animalistic to be walking. Somehow, it helped being there, but a good twenty feet away from ground zero. He was taken aback quite a lot by how much power she still possessed, seeing her sisters were completely drained.

In a horrifying mutual cooperation had Brick and Him managed to make the little glass ball, empty of everything but the mucky, black tar that seemed to magically appear there. Was never easy to know when his father was involved in the mess. Promises had been made, that it would save Bubbles from herself and everyone around her at the cost of her powers, but he couldn't understand how.

The flask was filled almost to the crest, yet she had enough power to pull the defeated tree out of the ground and hurled it across the wood, instantly regretting her actions in hope someone didn't get hurt. Remorse had barely lingered at the surface before her eyes had clouded over with rage and she had gone back to her rampaging of the innocent oaks. None of them went flying, though.

«That, that, I ought to go back there and, I can't, his stupid face, and,» she let out a scream by the lack of insults – because she wanted to call him every insulting known to mankind, but she was still too polite to – and her whole body seemed to pulsate with her breathing.

As the outburst echoed between the snow-coated mountains in the distance, the birds held their breath and the forest was ever so silent in hope to thread carefully around the landmine. Leaves twirled around her like a romance movie, and she took a moment to take in the landscape around her.

They had rushed out of the hospital – more like she had decided to do a sprinting marathon then and there, and he had to jump on the wagon – and eventually ended up in the outskirt of town. It hadn't been that long of a run, and neither had been tired. Bubbles had then proceeded to satisfy her blood lust with bark and dirt.

After verbally biting him, the blue ruff kept his distance until he was sure it was safe to get close enough. Everyone needed time to blow off some steam, and he granted her that. Boomer would always grant her that.

Her hair was standing on ends, prints and dashes of mud was smudged all over her face, the sweater was hanging loosely around her hips and she had a crimson hole in her left jeans. When had she hurt herself? Despite the upbeat image, she was a beauty, with her fair skin and long, blonde lashes framing those emotional eyes. She was like a hurricane, but not the kind like Buttercup that took you with storm and brought you to the end of the world or Blossom that calmly snuck up behind before throwing you down the shaft of endless wonders. No, the youngest Utonium sister was a curious sight with the capability to rise ones emotions to the limit and blow through the boundaries.

Boomer wasn't aware he had snapped for his breath with a tingling sensation behind his rib cage as he was lost in her presence, before she stood before him, neat in size. If she lifted herself up on the tip of her toes, she wouldn't reach to his shoulders. Funny how alike, yet different they were. The ruff was the tallest of his brothers, but the least muscular one at that.

A finger touched his chin; it was surprisingly warm in the cold wind. Louder than it should have been, a red hue spread across her cheeks as her stomach uttered its displeasure with the situation. Her finger moved away, but the heat lingered upon his skin, making him want to touch it to make sure it was actually gone. The ghost of the contact felt so real.

«I have an idea,» he leaned a little over her, not enough to seem intimidating, but just a pinch enough to appear smug. «We could eat out today.»

«Boomer, no,» she pulled further away, but the blond was not giving up. Moving after her, he didn't let her escape.

«How about takeout? We'll go to the store, wait for the food, then go home?» A twitch around the corner of her mouth suggested she was thinking. Averting her eyes, a tounge softly dabbed er bottom lip before she shook her head stubbornly. He could also play that game.

«Look at it as another step in the right direction.»

«No.»

«Can I bribe you with chocolate?»

«No.»

«How about -»

«Boomer, I said no, please leave it,» she dodged around one of the surviving trees, forehead connecting with the hard texture. A fist held against her chest, she let the blonde hair cascade around her face and hide the expression. Like a curtain.

«If we do this, I'll leave you alone for a week,» he bargained. Brick would have smacked him across the head for starting the negotiation with such a high offer, but Boomer didn't mind. This wasn't some business where he would come out on top as the victorious over the poor and hard working. Everything he did, was in the favor of his counterpart. He owed her that, after everything she had done for him.

«Tell you what. I'll even buy one of those boxes of your favorite ice cream. The one with brownies bits and caramel sauce, vanilla ice and an odd mixture of light and dark chocolate.» Peaking up at him through the strands of hair, she seemed to be glowering, something that meant he was winning. The girls sweet tooth was her only weakness. He was glad to see that something had not changed since she had been little.

«Limited offer.»

«I can't keep taking your money like this. It's not right. The food is fair game, because we split the costs there, but all the other stuff?»

«Bubbles, I want to,» he insisted, nudging closer. In his attempt at being sneaky and bewitch her, he had managed to get close enough to reach an arm out and touch her. Just in case. The ruff liked keeping her close enough to be indulged in the thought of touching her.

«I won't. I can't. The answer is no.»

«C'mon. I'll buy the ice cream anyway. Might even take a phone call to the factory and order a personal size big enough to fit in a freezer. Which reminds me, want a new freezer?»

«If I - ? Stop, no. Is this how you usually get your way, wave around your golden card and everyone does as you ask?» she turned to him with a furious face. A smirk unfolded on his lips, making him lean against the tree and fold his arms over his chest. At least she was looking at him now.

«Normally that's how Butch does things, and it seems effective,» he shrugged. Before she could protest any further, the brief silence was cut short as her stomach let out another loud meow. It was deep and hollow, yet two octaves over her voice. If Godzilla roared and a small bird chirped at the same time, it would be somewhat close to the sound.

«Takeout, Bubbles. We can eat home. Maybe Buttercup will be there, so we can take some with us to her too. Hm? Free ice cream and a week off from my bullshit.»

«I,» she bit the inside of her cheeks. «Something quick, then straight home,» she said hesitant with a warning, pointed finger at him, and the smile melted to a huge grin as he nodded his head eagerly.

They talked about what they were going to watch when they got back, maybe play something on the Playstation. Darkness wrapped it's cold claws around them in the tight space, and Boomer wished there was any other way he could take to spare her the nervous biting and clenching of her fists. He painfully well knew how little she appreciated tight spaces, but she managed to walk beside him with a straight back, even if her shoulders were propped into her ears and her turquoise eyes darted back and forth to make sure the coast was clear.

Boomer had no idea what or whom she was so scared of, and he had no idea how to find out without asking her; and there was no way he could do that. Both because he wasn't sure he wanted to despite his curiosity getting the better of him from time to time, and Boomer had no guarantee he would understand. Everyone reacted differently to things, and whatever had traumatized her could be a walk in the park for him. On the other side, this was Him. His father was nothing close to a walk in a park.

Ever since he was little, the blue ruff had watched his older brother work his intelligence to get his way with adults and in arguments; he always left with a smirk and either a confused opponent or raging puff. Now, he was never going to be as wise and witty as his brother, but he had picked up a couple things here and there. It was especially helpful when handling his counterpart. Bubbles loved pushing things to the side and forget them as long as she could, and he had developed quite the silver tongue.

By the time they were on the same street as the Italian and Chinese, his counterpart had a playful twinkle in her eyes and the occasional twist upwards she so desperately pushing back. They were hedonists, and light at heart, and he could tell the trait was still dominant but she was denying herself. Somehow, this was as best as it got, but Boomer always hoped for more. It wasn't like she would wake up one day and be herself again, no, that was not what he expected, but she was getting better. She really was.

«Buttercup?» Bubbles gasped breathless as she suddenly stopped. Following her gaze across the street, he took notice of his brother. Oh dear. He was walking broad shouldered like he always did, a cocky grin on his overconfident face and gestured while talking loud. Why were they together?

«That -» his counterpart hissed before he stepped in front of her and prevented her from rushing across the road. If she did get a hold of him in her mad state of mind, she would kill him. She had the power and will to, and there was no returning from that.

«Don't do anything rash. I'm sure there's a logical explanation to all of this.»

«Bullsh- Blossom would never leave her with him after what he did!» Bubbles accused him.

«Maybe they had work to do? And I'm sure Blossom made sure Butch wont do anything stupid, and behave. Maybe Brick had a talk with him,» he suggested to her while moving in her way as she tried to bypass him.

«And you believe Butch would listen?» Damn, she got him there. Butch never listened to anyone aside from a couple of occasions with Him and Brick. He had seen his brothers butt heads and taken a couple buildings with them in the process before coming to a somewhat mutual agreement. Brick liked to talk, Butch liked to brawl. Usually his redheaded brother would tell his brute one to wreck havoc or cause chaos, which was fine by the violent ruff, and anything beside those orders were seen down upon. Brick always came out as the top man in all of their fights, but that didn't prevent the brunette from repeating his uproar.

«Fair point,» he had to admit to her. «But how about we just follow them to make sure? For all we know, they could be grabbing a bite. Hospital food isn't exactly what I would enjoy. Maybe they're stretching their legs? He could be taking her to places to see if she remembers something?» His brain was working its hardest to find reasonable cause for their siblings to have come here. It was one of the streets with most restaurants and food stores around, so at least that did make sense.

Boomer could not help the creeping feeling up his spine as she lowered her chin and gave him the darkest, most haunted stare she was capable of. With the dark circles under her eyes and the pit of doom in her irises, he could not prevent himself from swallowing hard. The split second she made up her mind, he wasn't sure Butch was the closest one to visiting their father in Hell.

«Fine, but if anything happens, you can't prevent me from -»

«I'll kill him myself if he doesn't behave.» Oddly enough, the promise wasn't too hard to make, and he could tell she believed his serious face. He believed it so much himself he wasn't sure he wouldn't go through with it if Butch couldn't pull his shit together. Damn. Looked like he wasn't the only one influencing her.

«Pasta or Chinese?» he broke the silence with a shrug of his shoulders to break the awkward silence. Taking her orbs off him, the puff stared at the couple across the street, as Butch opened the door and gestured her sister inside the burger shop.

«Chinese,» Bubbles' chilling voice fluttered in the air as she passed him and went right. The only reason she had picked it was because it was across from their shop and she could stare into the window without standing on the street like a creeper. Boomer sighed.

Fishing out his wallet, he asked her what she wanted. The girl was so focused on the pair she didn't take her time to even peak at the menu before answering. He should have known. 'I'll take whatever you're having'. Lining up in the queue, he kept a close eye on his counterpart and brother. Any sign of foul play, and she would be out of there before he could say 'It isn't like that' and he would be one brother down.

The greens were chatting away. Butch was talking loudly – he could picture himself hearing the moron – and moving his body to further prove his points while the girl was following his gesturing and giggling at his silly jokes. The puff didn't look anything like her self, with the light heart and broad smile. He wasn't saying she didn't use to smile wide or that she couldn't, merely that he had never seen her do it before. From what he saw, he could fully support and understand why his brother was so attached to his counterpart. Buttercup was beautiful where she stood with her tight-hugging pants, a green tank top under her leather jacket, a bedazzling smile on her face and shining eyes.

As it was their turn to order, so came his. The cashier blushed at him before taking his order, making small talk he was polite enough to dance along to. She never seemed to understand when to end, because she kept her mouth going as she took the orders from the rest in the queue, and Boomer wasn't sure when to cut her off. Luckily, the food came faster than anticipated, and he could finally break her off with a bye, but froze as he turned to his counterpart.

Bubbles was missing. Shit. How long had he been turning his back to her? What had Butch done? Stupid, he should have paid better attention. Almost breaking the door on his way out, the blond drew a deep breath as he caught her form standing leaning against the wall. She turned to him, and he felt himself snap after his breath as their eyes met.

«Did I scare you?» She sounded concerned and apologetic, but her lips were telling another story as they pointed upwards like horns.

«What? Would I be scared? Maybe,» he handed her the carton of the steaming food, and she happily took it. Drawing in the delicious smell, she flipped it open and dug in. Never had he seen her eat so happily. With a calm soul, he followed her lead while glancing at their stakeout prey.

Butch was just getting the burgers, handing one to her while taking a huge, very messy bite of his own. The girls eyes became round and huge as she probably realized it was her type of food. The kind she loved so dearly.

When they came out, he could hear Butch and Buttercup arguing. It wasn't the kind they had in the past where she had ended up either kneeing him or sending him crashing through the earth, but the loud type where both had their own side they supported, and the fight was purely satisfaction and flirting. Butch was obviously flirting, but the green girl was responding to it.

Boomer could then see the old Buttercup in the blank girl. She was opposing Butch, arguing with him, and she hard the spark of a fresh fight in her eyes.

«She's enjoying herself,» Boomer commented.

«Yeah,» Bubbles answered him with a calm smile on her lips.

They followed them for the next blocks, listening in on their conversation. It consisted of Butch mostly telling her about their past, how they used to be enemies but grew up and started tolerating each other. Most of it was a lie, Boomer knew, but it was better to tell the brunette that the brute was someone she could trust, rather than the one who placed her in danger.

When they entered a clothing store painted in fashionable black letters Lonetch, Boomer was hesitant to follow, but had to when Bubbles threw the almost empty box in the trash bin and stalked inside. The sound of plastic rattling around was switched out with the beat of the hit list and talking people.

Bubbles was lost to him, but he could hear Buttercup laugh in the distance.

«Where are you taking me?»

«Won't be much of a surprise if i tell you, Butterfly.»

«Is it really necessary to switch clothes? What's wrong with what I'm already wearing?» Following them as his brother roamed the different textures and held them up against his counterpart as she grimaced at him, he caught sight of his. Ducking down and moving quick, he caught up with her.

«Nothing, but you'd want to look nicer for where we're going.»

«Do I now?» the laughter filled the store.

«Try this,» Butch handed her a set, and she glanced up and down from it to him.

«How do you even know I'll like, if it fits?»

«We used to date, so I know quite a lot about you,» and there it was. The handsome grin he would show any girl he was interested in. Boy he was going to tease him about it when they got him, Boomer snickered to himself.

«All lies, though,» he whispered to Bubbles, in case she got the wrong idea.

«I know, but I used to ship them.» Instead of being furious, the blonde was amused. This he had not been expecting.

«Really?» he teased her.

«Yeah,» she turned to him. They looked rather silly, hiding behind pants and blouses, crouched on the floor and sticking their curious eyes out from behind their cover. «They've always had spark, so I figured they would eventually turn it to love.»

«Blossom and Brick then?» He asked curious.

«Never,» Bubbles turned to her sister as she came out of the changing room. The jeans were torn and showed just enough skin to be teasing, and the top clung to her fit form with torn lashes and laces. To be fair, Butch had picked the exact outfit that matched his counterparts rough personality. Picking a spray of the shelf he fluffed her hair while she protested and glanced around like a naughty little child. His brother assured her it was fine. And it was. Just send the bill to Mojo, and he wouldn't even bat an eyelash as he paid the silly little sums.

«Under normal circumstances, yes. But the pride will eventually ruin it,» Bubbles finished her sentence. Boomer had to agree as he caught her jealous stare. A thought formed, and the idea was too much to keep to himself.

«Want to dress up too?»

«I don't have the money, and you cant -»

«Look at it as our last day together for a week. Spying on our siblings like true heroes! I feel like I should have the pleasure of giving you some stuff. In fact, I would be offended if you didn't accept.» Boomer was joking, but it was working as she nodded her head, a small pink hue on her cheeks. Buttercup wasn't the only cute girl on the block.

* * *

Blossom lay her face on her palms, elbows resting on the table. Something was wrong. Very wrong, and she hated not knowing what. Don't misunderstand, she was glad her sister was up and ready for action, even if it was at the expense of her memories; but she didn't like the fact that the girl was awake when they got there. The redhead and Brick – why he had insisted on tagging along was beyond her – had arrived there before the rest, and to their utter surprise, was she sitting in the bed and blinking at them, a smile falling off her lips.

Why had she been smiling? There hadn't been anyone there, not that she could tell. What had triggered her awakening? What was going on?

Groaning, she let her head fall, the sound of hollow wood being hit and the beginning of a lump was forming on her forehead, throbbing painfully. What she wouldn't give to get the day off and tend to her handicapped sister instead of leaving her in the hands of danger itself. It was a bad idea. Fuck. She should have just told Brick no and taken the day off.

«Giving up?» his patronizing voice found its way into her head, and she turned to glare at him through her sun kissed hair.

«Why aren't you dressed?» she commented at his lack of a shirt. Brick was well toned and lean muscled, the biceps and triceps sprung tight up even when resting, the packs on his stomach – if it was six or eight, she couldn't tell – and the lines down his abdomen drew her eyes before she managed to pull herself back and stare at the blank wall instead.

«It's hot, and unless you're doing something about it, you're going to have to live with the sigh of my half naked body,» Brick answered without taking his concentration from the microscope and its content. «Besides, shouldn't you be mixing something?»

Shoot, yes, she was. Scrambling her tools back in place, she tried her best to focus. For a short while, it worked. Nothing exploded and she got the results she was aiming for, but then her thoughts started wandering off again. Buttercup never listened to her. Why would Butch? He was probably dragging her do horrible places and doing whatever he was – and her sister was a recovering drug addict. Did the rough man know his counterpart had been in a tight spot and gone to rehab to fix it? He had to know. But Butch never listened. Lovely. She should not have placed it in his incapable hands.

«Blo- Fucking hell,» Brick cursed as he drew the chair away from the table and her along with it. To her surprise, it was on fire. When had that happened? Jumping out of the piece of wood to get the fire extinguisher, she was a split of a second too late as the redheaded man rushed past her and sprayed the whole room.

Blossom was blinded by the sand and foam, coughing hard, before a window opened and light streamed in and lit up the room. The shadow of her counterpart fell upon her, and she scratched her arms while biting her lower lip. To say the male was angry, would be an understatement. Before he exploded with rage, his body steaming from the heat, he drew a quick breath and forced his mouth close in a sour grimace.

«I'm sor-»

«Just get me a coffee down at Daniel's,» Brick dismissed her while his hands shook his hair in frustrated motions, the man pacing back and forth while muttering curses and formulas to himself. Wanting to protest to his bossy attitude – she was fine with him 'owning' her, but she hated him thinking himself over – some fresh air and personal space sounded nice. They were practically up in each others face all day long, and she was getting tired of it. Even if he was pretty good looking with the sweat running down his back. No, not again. Bad Blossom.

She took the time to drop the lab coat and fetch her jacket. Why they still used them was more for show than anything else. Brick didn't bother with it anymore, and wore a t-shirt when he bothered – the baby complained about the heat even if they had been doing the nasty just a couple hours ago – and for her it was most out of habit than necessity. It felt like they had hit the wall with the experiments a couple weeks back, but lately they were just shooting in the blind. Whatever idea came up, was a desperate attempt of something unknown.

Johanna met her gaze as she was leaving, but the brunette turned away with her nose in the sky and a sour look as the redhead began waving to her. The previous weeks had not been a problem, where the girl had greeted her in the morning, taken her time to chit chat about nothing, mostly the weather and plans, but the last days had somehow made her cold. What could have changed for her to take such a spin on her heel? Blossom wasn't sure she wanted to know. People seemed to have the most silly reasons to act emotional and expect others to know and understand without saying a word about the issue. It was probably one of the reasons she had shun away from making friends at work. Too complicated.

Speaking of sour, clouds hung low on the sky, heavily induced with water and threatened to cry out at any moment. A cold wind bit after her steps, making her pull the jacket closer around her chill body. Lately, the hunger for her counterparts warmth had become more obnoxious. It came under a long list of reasons they were working so hard; to become independent of each other, because as it was now, they were getting closer to live together. Blossom wasn't delusional, she could see the grim ending of this.

The thought of seeing Brick in the morning with a cocky grin and a towel around his lower waistline was making her heart beat behind her rib cage. Strong and hard. God, she needed to get away from him, or things would become dangerous. Have feelings for Brick? Pff, not if she had a say in it.

Just as her nose was going numb and irritate, she broke through the door of the small coffee shop, rubbing her arms and breathing hot on her hands. They were slightly shaking and the silhouette of them were turning blue. Clattering her teeth, the puff approached the small line and looked for the cashier. Daniel had a son with the exact name, a Jr. attached to the end. If taking a guess, she would estimate his age about hers, and they usually settled for a couple minutes of talking before she had to rush back to her boss. It was nice, getting other people in her life.

«Blossom,» the brunette waved at her with a huge smile, and she gave him a quick greeting back before he turned to the costumer, apologizing for that. It didn't take long for the queue to shrink and she was faced with his dark, brown eyes and the white smile.

«The usual?» he was already making it, adding a shot of mocha and chocolate.

«Make me a triple, please,» she smoothed out her eyebrows and suppressed a yawn. The male took a slight pause, giving her a sympathetic stare before executing the order.

«Long day?» he asked, shoulders bobbing up and down, arms slithering around like acrobatic snakes. He knew his job inside out.

«Yeah, very,» Blossom answered him in a sigh. She didn't want to bother him with it, god knew how many times she had ranted and let her anger slip, and he always seemed to be able to cheer her up. The magical coffee was probably the reason for that. Much like Buttercup – minus the grinding of her teeth – she had a huge craving for that delicious caffeine.

«Wanna talk about it?» Daniel Jr. was standing with his back to her, but she heard the nice concern in his voice. The boy was too good for his own. He probably listened to all the problems of the regulars and knew the exact words to say to make their days a little brighter. Just having him ask was enough to make a phantom of a smile appear on her face.

«It's just Brick again,» she exhaled long, the mere thought of that red head of his invading her personal space and being so overly confident about it made her want to punch something. But she wasn't Buttercup. Instead of hurling herself at the closest, strongest furniture, she knotted her fists and swallowed the anger as best she could. Every time she had to, it was getting harder and harder to turn the other cheek. If only she could have remained a superhero and didn't have to succumb to the enemy. Even if the boys wanted to take their father down together.

«Seems like your boss is quite the firecracker,»

«That doesn't cover the half of it,» Blossom drew a deep breath and gladly accepted the warm cups he handed to her. It was a blessing to her cold fingers.

«God, you're freezing,» he commented as he removed his hands which she didn't know had lingered on her skin. Oddly how she had missed that, she thought. There wasn't a linger of heat after him, and she knew Brick was the only capable one of making her warm, and not in the good way. Maybe in the good way sometimes, but mostly just for survival. Right?

Blossom wasn't sure what to tell him. _I'm really a superhuman whos powers aren't exactly normal right now, making me a walking popsicle and the only way to do something about it is sleeping with the human touch, which is my boss._ Her life was so messy.

Something fell on her, grabbing at her wrist with a hard pinch, and she turned to stare into the most wrinkled face she had ever seen. The woman could easily be over a hundred, a pair of huge glasses on her crooked nose, gray locks corking its way around her humped back and fashionably old clothes in green and purple wrapping her small form. The hand was spotted and creased, holding on for dear life like a soar claw.

«I'm sorry my dear,» the older croaked. «I've seen to have lost my way to the florist, I'm going to see my grandson. Could you please point me in the right direction?»

«Which one?» she asked baffled, glancing from the small eyes to the man behind the counter. He leaned in closer, his knowledge over the street was probably better than hers, and gave the woman a warm smile.

«Was it Smiths or The great haven?» the woman pondered with a long finger scratching at chin.

«Doesn't sound like any I know. Could it be Flurs Florist?» Daniel asked, drawing the squinting attention. Somehow, it had an invisible claw tickle her back and the tight grip around her wrist was starting to hurt, but she couldn't just ask the woman to let go in case she was her only support. If the woman fell over, it would be all her fault. So she bit the pain back, balancing the cups and weight.

«Indeed it could be, young man. Do you know the way?»

«Yeah, it's just around the corner to the left and two shops over.»

«Left? When?» The woman turned both ways and they shared a look. She was in no condition to be on her own, let alone leave with just directions.

«I could show you, Ma'am,» Blossom volunteered. Brick could wait, and maybe she would cause him some distress for a change.

«Oh, that would be lovely, my dear,» the elder flashed her yellow dentures and took her small steps around as she turned to lead her out of the shop.

«Have a good day, Blossom,» Daniel Jr. said behind her and she waved at him as best she could with her busy hand. The grip on her wrist was not loosening, and it felt like the woman was holding on to her for dear life. It was starting to both itch and hurt a lot, but luckily the trip around the corner wasn't too long.

«There it is,» she waved at the sign in the distance, the woman came to a halt before giving her head a slight nod.

«Thank you my dear. You have been of invaluable help,» she gave her a creeping smile before her hand finally let go, leaving Blossom with a wish for the best. Somehow, she felt like it wasn't as nicely intended. She must be getting very tired and paranoid. What could an old woman do? She was probably just lonely and lost. Maybe even scared.

Brick was having the worst influence on her and she was going to crush it before it could spread it's ominous seed inside her. If she could help, she would. Even if she wasn't labeled a superhero and saved the city anymore, the smaller things mattered just as much.

Her cup was empty on the way back, and the sound of the paper hitting the table brought her counterpart out of his world and turn to her. Scooping it closer, he took a long sip before setting it down, his chest heaving.

«What took you so long?» He muttered. The tone wasn't as harsh as when she had left, and she wasn't the only one whom had blown off some steam in the break.

«An old lady needed directions.»

«Fine, don't tell me then,» Brick shrugged, but the hurt was clearly there. Hanging her coat up, she rose an eyebrow at him.

«It's the truth,» she defended herself.

Brick turned to her with a wrinkled forehead. «Sounds like an excuse for being late.»

«She was lost and needed to find the flower shop to meet her grandson.»

«So you spent more time with Jr. at the store?» He crossed his arms over his chest in disapproval.

«Brick, the older woman? Gray hair, huge glasses? She needed help? Geeze, why would I lie to you about this,» Blossom slumped down on her chair in frustration. Why wasn't he listening to her? Always doing whatever he wanted.

«Jr. got himself new glasses?» The curl of his lip was a mock, and it took every piece of her willpower not to give him her best right hook.

«I'm telling the truth!» Extending her arms to prove her point, even if it didn't. «And he doesn't wear glasses,» she added.

«No? You sure?» Brick snickered as he was suddenly at her side, with the help of his elbow, taking up most of her view. God he was playing with her. Or bipolar.

«The older woman seemed to be very old, yet her grip was very strong. She had green and purple clothes and needed directions to the flower store. I lead her around the corner, because she was hanging on to me, and pointed her to it. It barely took ten extra minutes.»

«Wait, green and purple?» Brick straightened his back and his eyes darted back and forth staring at nothing. It was his thinking look, and it was creating a knot in her lower abdomen. Storming from his chair, he scratched his scalp.

«Did he touch you?» he asked, a spark lighting up his face with dread.

«I – what? Daniel Jr? No, he didn't. Well, maybe graced my fingers, but -»

«No, no, the older woman. Wait, he touched you?» There was a fire in his voice.

«She,» Blossom laid huge weight on the pronoun, «did. You'd known had you been listening. She had problems standing so I supported her.»

«Where?» Brick rushed to her and glanced under her sweater and stared at her shoulders, before moving to her hands.

«My left wrist, but I don't see how this is relevant -» He tore her sleeve up, and she came to a halt as the red skin came into view. A red hand print bruised her wrist, and she could feel the pain as Brick touched it. Hissing, she pulled away.

«Fuck,» Brick cursed as he pulled the skin on his face with his left hand.

«What? I'm not following,» she angrily said, hating it when he kept things a secret just to spite her.

«That woman in the coffee shop? Wasn't an older lady. It was Him.» They both stared at the print, Brick with anger and Blossom with horror.

«I don't understand. He's been hurting us for as long as I remember, what does this mean?» she asked him, a slight panic on her she managed to choke.

«I have no idea, but it's not good,» Brick said. «This means you can't leave my side. If he's doing this, it means something worse is just around the corner.» A horrible thought hit her.

«What if he's after Bubbles? Or Buttercup?» Rising from her chair, she backtracks toward the door.

«They'll be safe. Boomer and Butch is with them.»

«Butch doesn't have any powers,» she screamed at him. How could he disregard her sisters like that? As if they could help themselves? Buttercup was already hospitalized twice, a huge leak in her memory making her vulnerable toward strangers like Him had become, and Bubbles was just so gullible. If someone was in distress, her blonde sister would rush and try to help, and then he would have her.

«Of course he does,» Brick folded his arms over his chest like a parent. «He just doesn't know it. Him could never take our powers away, but as long as he believes they're gone, they are.»

«Then he's useless! He can't protect Buttercup,» Blossom was hyperventilating, black and white dots dancing in front of her eyes.

«Blossom,» Brick tenderly said as his palms landed on her overarms, making a heat gnaw at her pelvic and chase the unease in her away. «If Buttercup or Bubbles is in danger, my brothers will protect them.»

«How? They hate each other.»

«Please. Boomer has been a puppy dog for your sister ever since we were made, and Butch has too much of a hots for Buttercup – no offense – to let her die before he can get her.»

«He, WHAT?» she angrily exhaled and the mans laughter roared in the room.

«Punishment later. Now we know what Him is after, let's found out how and a way to stop it.»

* * *

 _There it is! Thank you for reading, and remember to leave a comment on your thoughts. What's gonna happen next? How soon will Him attack? Where is Butch taking Buttercup? Guess you'll just have to see next time!_

 _BlossomxBrick11: Thank you for returning to the story and leaving a faithful review! Makes me so happy! Glad the lemon wasn't as bad as I first thought, so I might add in more later._

 _Demonic dragon blade: Thank you so much for the review! Happy you liked it._

 _Miss Nay: The review was really nice, thank you! As for Bubbles and Boomer; no, he hasn't told her, and this will cause complications later on, as you might have guessed._

 _Blossom782: Thank you for the review! Here's the update, with a some build up for the next chapter and future events._

 _Guest: Glad you like it! Thank you for the lovely reviews and kind words! I will go at it as long as the imagination is present, probably twice the chapters we're at now._

 _SomethingHereAndThere: Aw, thanks! It's really nice of you to say, and here is the long awaited update! I do love rambling, hearing what people think inspires and affects some of my writing and ideas, making it a better plot, so thank you so much for that._

 _CuteVyper: It does, doesn't it? Thank you for the review!_

 _Massive thanks to Demonic dragon blade, Fishy Senpai, SomethingHereAndThere and BNANINE for following this story, and another massive thanks to Demonic dragon blade, Fishy Senpai, SomethingHereAndThere, BNANINE and Jr3301 for favoring this story. It means a lost to me, guys._

 _And all you silent readers out there! You're all awsome!_


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